/>/ 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2007  with  funding  from 

IVIicrosoft  Corporation 


http://www.archive.org/details/childrenofsoilOOsieniala 


CHILDREN   OF  THE   SOIL 


WORKS   OF 


flenrpk  ^tmfetetoic? 


In  Desert  and  Wilderness 

With  Fire  and  Sword 

The  Deluge.    2  vols. 

Pan  Michael 

Children  of  the  Soil 

"Quo  Vadis" 

Sielanka,  a  Forest  Picture 

The  Knights  of  the  Cross 

Wn'HOUT  Dogma 

Whirlpools 

On  the  Field  of  Glory 

Let  Us  Follow  Him 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 


BY 


HENRYK  SIENKIEWICZ, 

AUTHOR  OF 
"with  FIBE  and   SWOKD,"    "the    deluge,"   "pan  MICHAEL," 

"without  dogma,"  "yanko  the  musician," 
"  lillian  mokbis,"  etc. 


AUTHORIZED  AND    UNABRIDGED    TRANSLATION   FROM 
THE   POLISH   BY 

JEREIVUAH   CURTIN. 


BOSTON 

LITTLE,  BROWN,  AND   COMPANY 
1917 


Copyright,  1895, 
Bt  Jeremiah  Curtin. 

All  righU  reserved. 


TPxivittB 
8.  J.  rAKXHiLL  A  Co.,  Boston,  U.S.A. 


TO  HIS  EXCELLENCY, 

HON.   FREDERIC   T.   GREENHALGE, 

(Kobtrnor  of  i(Hassad)usetts. 


Sir,  — You  are  at  the  head  of  a  Commonwealth  renowned  for 
mental  culture;  jou  esteem  the  Slav  Bace  and  delight  in  good 
literature;  —  to  you  I  beg  to  dedicate  this  volume,  in  the  hope 
that  it  will  give  pleasure  to  you  and  to  others  in  that  State  which 
yon  govern  so  acceptably. 


JEREMIAH  CUBTIN. 


Warren,  Vermont, 

AprU  19,  189S. 


INTRODUCTORY  STATEMENT. 


The  title  of  this  book  in  the  original  is  Eodzina  Pola- 
nieckich  (The  Family  of  the  Polanyetskis) ;  "  Children 
of  the  Soil "  has  been  substituted,  because  of  the  difficulty 
of  the  Polish  title  for  American  and  English  readers, 
because  the  Polanyetskis  are  called  children  of  the  soil  in 
the  text  of  the  volume,  and  because  all  the  other  char- 
acters are  children  of  the  soil  in  the  same  sense. 

For  most  readers  this  book  will  have  a  double  interest, 
—  the  interest  attaching  to  a  picture  of  Polish  Ufe,  and 
the  general  human  interest  inseparable  from  characters 
like  those  presented  in  the  narrative  of  Pan  Stanislav's 
fortunes. 

The  Poles  form  a  part  of  the  great  Slav  race,  -which  has 
played  so  important  a  role  in  the  world's  history  already, 
and  which  is  destined  to  play  a  far  more  important  one 
yet  in  the  future. 

The  argument  involved  in  the  career  and  meditations 
of  Pan  Stanislav  is  of  interest  to  every  person  in  civil- 
ized society ;  it  is  an  argument  presented  so  clearly,  and 
reinforced  with  such  pointed  examples,  that  neither  com- 
ment nor  explanation  is  needed. 

Were  it  not  for  the  change  of  title,  I  might  escape  even 
this  brief  statement ;  but  now  I  may  add  that  the  follow- 
ing translation  was  made  in  many  places,  in  different 
countries,  at  various  intervals,  and  at  moments  snatched 


X  INTRODUCTORY   STATEMENT. 

from  other  work.  I  began  "Children  of  the  Soil"  in 
Cahirciveen,  Ireland,. and  continued  it  in  London,  Edin- 
burgh, Fort  William  near  the  foot  of  Ben  Nevis,  Eome, 
Naples,  and  Florence,  Tsarskoe  Selo,  Russia,  and  South 
Uist,  an  island  of  the  Outer  Hebrides.  From  the  Outer 
Hebrides  I  was  called  home  before  I  wished  to  come,  and 
left  that  little  granite  kingdom  in  the  Atlantic  with 
sincere  regret. 

The  translation  was  finished  in  "Warren,  Vermont,  and 
revised  carefully.  To  new  readers  of  Sienkiewicz  I  may 
state  that  Pan,  Pani,  and  Panna,  when  prefixed  to  names, 
mean  Mr.,  Mrs.,  and  Miss  respectively. 

JEREMIAH  CURTIN. 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 


CHAPTER  I. 

It  was  the  first  hour  after  midnight  when  Pan  Stauislav 
Polanyetski  was  approaching  the  residence  in  Kremen. 
During  years  of  childhood  he  had  been  twice  in  that  village, 
when  his  mother,  a  distant  relative  of  the  present  owner 
of  Kremen,  was  taking  him  home  for  vacation.  Pan  Stan- 
islav  tried  to  remember  the  place,  but  to  do  so  was  difficult. 
At  night,  by  the  light  of  the  moon,  everything  took  on  an 
uncertain  form.  Over  the  bushes,  fields,  and  meadows,  a 
white  mist  was  lying  low,  changing  the  whole  region  about 
into  a  shoreless  lake,  as  it  were,  —  an  illusion  increased  by 
choruses  of  frogs  in  the  mist. 

It  was  a  July  night,  very  calm  and  perfectly  bright.  At 
moments,  when  the  frogs  became  silent,  landrails  were 
heard  playing  in  the  dew  ;  and  at  times,  from  afar,  from 
muddy  ponds,  hidden  behind  reeds,  the  call  of  the  bittern 
sounded  as  if  coming  from  under  the  earth. 

Pan  Stanislav  could  not  resist  the  charm  of  that  night. 
It  seemed  to  him  familiar  in  some  way ;  and  that  familiarity 
he  felt  all  the  more,  since  he  had  returned  only  the  previous 
year  from  abroad,  where  he  had  spent  his  first  j^outh  and 
had  become  engaged  afterward  in  mercantile  matters.  Now, 
while  entering  that  sleeping  village,  he  recalled  his  child- 
hood, memorable  through  his  mother,  now  five  years  dead, 
and  because  the  bitterness  and  cares  of  that  childhood, 
compared  with  the  present,  seemed  perfect  bliss  to  him. 

At  last  the  brichka  rolled  up  toward  the  village,  which 
began  with  a  cross  standing  on  a  sand  mound.  The  cross, 
inclining  greatly,  seemed  ready  to  fall.  Pan  Stanislav 
remembered  it  because  in  his  time  under  that  mound  had 
been  buried  a   man    found   hanging  from   a   limb   in   tlie 

I 


2  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

neighboring  forest,  and  afterward  people  were  afraid  to 
pass  by  that  spot  in  the  night-time. 

Beyond  the  cross  were  the  first  cottages,  but  the  people 
were  sleeping ;  there  was  no  light  in  any  window.  As  far 
as  the  eye  could  reach,  only  roofs  of  cottages  were  gleaming 
on  the  night  background  of  the  sky,  lighted  up  by  the  moon, 
and  the  roofs  appeared  silvery  and  blue.  Some  cottages 
were  washed  witia  lime  and  seemed  bright  green  ;  others, 
hidden  in  plum  orchards,  in  thickets  of  sunflowers  or  pole 
beans,  barely  came  out  of  the  shadow.  In  the  yards,  dogs 
barked,  but  in  their  sleep,  as  it  were,  accompanying  the 
croaking  of  frogs,  the  calling  of  landrails  and  bitterns,  and 
all  those  sounds  with  which  a  summer  night  speaks,  and 
which  strengthen  the  impression  of  silence  still  more. 

The  brichka,  moving  slowly  along  the  soft  sandy  road, 
entered  at  last  a  dark  alley,  spotted  only  here  and  there 
by  the  moonlight,  which  pushed  in  between  the  leaves. 
Beyond  the  alley,  night  watches  whistled  ;  and  in  the  open 
was.  seen  a  white  dwelling,  in  which  some  windows  were 
lighted.  When  the  brichka  rattled  up  to  the  entrance,  a 
serving-man  hurried  out  of  the  house  and  began  to  assist 
Pan  Stanislav  to  alight ;  but  in  addition  the  night  watch 
appeared  and  two  white  dogs,  evidently  very  young  and 
friendly,  for,  instead  of  barking,  they  began  to  fawn  and 
to  spring  on  the  guest,  showing  such  delight  at  his  coming 
that  the  watch  had  to  moderate  their  effusiveness  with  a 
stick. 

The  man  took  Pan  Stanislav's  things  from  the  brichka, 
and  after  a  moment  the  guest  found  himself  in  a  dining- 
room  where  tea  was  waiting.  Nothing  had  changed  from 
the  time  of  his  childhood.  At  one  wall  was  a  sideboard  in 
walnut ;  at  one  end  of  this  a  clock  with  heavy  weights  and 
a  cuckoo ;  at  the  other  were  two  badly  painted  portraits  of 
women  in  robes  of  the  eighteenth  century  ;  in  the  centre 
of  the  room  stood  a  table  with  a  white  cloth,  and  surrounded 
by  chairs  with  high  arms.  That  room,  lighted  brightly,  full 
of  steam  rising  from  a  samovar,  seemed  rather  hospitable 
and  gladsome. 

Pan  Stanislav  began  to  walk  along  the  side  of  the  table ; 
but  the  squeaking  of  his  boots  struck  him  in  that  silence, 
therefore  he  went  to  the  window  and  looked  through  the 
panes  at  the  yard  filled  with  moonlight.  Over  this  yard  the 
two  white  dogs,  which  had  greeted  him  so  effusively,  were 
chasing  each  other. 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  3 

After  a  time  the  door  of  the  next  room  opened,  and  a 
young  hidy  entered  in  whom  Pan  Stanislav  divined  the 
daughter  of  the  master  of  Kremen  by  his  second  wife ;  at 
sight  of  her  he  stepped  from  the  window  curtains,  and,  ap- 
proaching the  table  in  his  squeaking  boots,  bowed,  and 
announced  his  name.  The  young  lady  extended  her  hand, 
and  said,  — 

"  We  learned  of  your  arrival  from  the  despatch.  Father 
is  a  trifle  ill,  and  was  obliged  to  lie  down ;  but  he  will  be 
glad  to  see  you  in  the  morning." 

"  I  am  not  to  blame  for  coming  so  late,"  answered  Pan 
Stanislav ;  "  the  train  reaches  Chernyov  only  at  eleven." 

"  And  from  Chernyov  it  is  ten  miles  to  Kremen.  Fathei 
tells  me  that  this  is  not  your  first  visit." 

*'  I  came  here  with  my  mother  when  you  were  not  in  the 
world  yet." 

"  I  know.     You  are  a  relative  of  my  father." 

"I  am  a  relative  of  Pan  Plavitski's  first  wife." 

"  Father  esteems  family  connections  very  highly,  even 
the  most  distant,"  said  the  young  lady :  and  she  began  to 
pour  out  tea,  pushing  aside  from  time  to  time  the  steam, 
which,  rising  from  the  samovar,  veiled  her  eyes.  When 
conversation  halted,  only  the  tick  of  the  clock  was  heard. 
Pan  Stanislav,  who  was  interested  by  young  ladies,  looked 
at  Panna  Plavitski  carefully.  She  was  a  person  of  medium 
height,  rather  slender ;  she  had  dark  hair,  a  face  calm,  but 
subdued,  as  it  were,  a  complexion  sunburnt  somewhat,  blue 
eyes,  and  a  most  shapely  mouth.  Altogether  it  was  the 
face  of  a  self-possessed  and  delicate  woman.  Pan  Stanislav, 
to  whom  she  seemed  not  ill-looking,  but  also  not  beautiful, 
thought  that  she  was  rather  attractive  ;  that  she  might  be 
good ;  and  that  under  that  exterior,  not  too  brilliant,  she 
might  have  many  of  those  various  qualities  which  young 
ladies  in  the  country  have  usually.  Though  he  was  young, 
life  had  taught  him  one  truth,  —  that  in  general  women  gain 
on  near  acquaintance,  while  in  general  men  lose.  He  had 
heard  also  touching  Panna  Plavitski,  that  the  whole  manage- 
ment in  Kremen  —  a  place,  by  the  way,  almost  ruined —  lay 
on  her  mind,  and  that  she  was  one  of  the  most  overworked 
persons  on  earth.  With  reference  to  those  cares,  which 
must  weigh  on  her,  she  seemed  calm  and  unmoved  ;  still 
he  thought  that  surely  she  must  wish  to  sleep.  This  was 
evident,  indeed,  by  her  eyes,  which  blinked  in  spite  of  her, 
under  the  light  of  the  hanging  lamp. 


4  CHILDREN  OF  THE   SOIL. 

The  examination  would  have  come  out  on  the  whole  in 
her  favor,  were  it  not  that  conversation  dragged  somewhat. 
This  was  explained  by  the  fact  that  they  saw  each  other 
for  the  first  time  in  life  ;  besides,  she  received  him  alone, 
which  might  be  awkward  for  a  young  lady.  Finally,  she 
knew  that  Pan  Stanislav  had  not  come  to  make  a  visit,  but 
to  ask  for  money.  Such  was  the  case  in  reality.  His  mother 
had  given,  a  very  long  time  before,  twelve  thousand  and  some 
rubles  for  a  mortgage  on  Kremen,  which  Pan  Stanislav 
wished  to  have  redeemed,  —  first,  because  there  were  enor- 
mous arrears  of  interest,  and  second,  since  lie  was  a  part- 
ner in  a  mercantile  house  in  Warsaw,  he  had  entered  into 
various  transactions  and  needed  capital.  He  had  promised 
himself  beforehand  to  make  no  compromise,  and  to  exact 
his  own  absolutely.  In  affairs  of  that  sort,  it  was  a  point 
with  him  always  to  appear  unyielding.  He  was  not  such 
by  nature,  perhaps ;  but  he  had  made  inflexibility  a  prin- 
ciple, and  therewith  a  question  of  self-love.  In  conse- 
quence of  this,  he  overshot  the  mark  frequently,  as  people 
do  who  argue  something  into  themselves.  Hence,  while 
looking  at  that  agreeable,  but  evidently  drowsy  young  lady, 
he  repeated  to  himself,  in  spite  of  the  sympathy  which  was 
roused  in  him,  — 

"  That  is  all  well,  but  you  must  pay." 

After  a  while  he  said,  "  I  have  heard  that  you  busy  your- 
self with  everything ;  do  you  like  land  management  ?  " 

"  I  love  Kremen  greatly,"  answered  she. 

"  I  too  loved  Kremen  when  I  was  a  boy  ;  but  I  should 
not  like  to  manage  the  place,  —  the  conditions  are  so 
difficult." 

"  Difficult,  difficult.      We  do  what  we  can." 

"  That  is  it, —  you  do  what  you  can." 

"  I  assist  father,  who  is  often  in  poor  health." 

"  I  am  not  skilled  in  those  matters,  but,  from  what  I  see 
and  hear,  T  infer  that  the  greater  number  of  agriculturists 
cannot  count  on  a  future." 

"  We  count  on  Providence." 

"  Of  course,  but  people  cannot  send  creditors  to  Provi- 
dence." 

Panna  Plavitski's  face  was  covered  with  a  blush ;  ;. 
moment  of  awkward  silence  followed ;  and  Pan  Stanislav 
said  to  himself, — 

"  Since  thou  hast  begun,  proceed  farther ; "  and  lu 
said,  — 


CHILDREN  OF  THE   SOIL.  5 

"You  will  permit  me  to  explain  the  object  of  my 
coming." 

The  young  lady  looked  at  him  with  a  glance  in  which  he 
might  read,  '*  Thou  hast  come  just  now  ;  the  hour  is  late.  I 
am  barely  alive  from  fatigue :  even  the  slightest  delicacy 
might  have  restrained  thee  from  beginning  such  a  conver- 
sation."    She  answered  aloud,  — 

"  I  know  why  you  have  come ;  but  it  may  be  better  if  you 
will  speak  about  that  with  my  father." 

"I  beg  your  pardon." 

"But  I  beg  pardon  of  you.  People  have  a  right  to 
mention  what  belongs  to  them,  and  I  am  accustomed  to 
that ;  but  to-day  is  Saturday,  and  on  Saturday  there  is  so 
much  work.  Moreover,  in  affairs  of  this  sort,  you  will  un- 
derstand —  sometimes,  when  Jews  come,  I  bargain  with 
them ;  but  this  time  I  should  prefer  if  you  would  speak 
with  my  father.     It  would  be  easier  for  both." 

"Then  till  to-morrow,"  said  Pan  Stanislav,  who  lacked 
the  boldness  to  say  that  in  questions  of  money  he  preferred 
to  be  treated  like  a  Jew. 

"Perhaps  you  would  permit  me  to  pour  you  more 
tea  ?  " 

"No,  I  thank  you.  Good-night."  And,  rising,  he  ex- 
tended his  hand  ;  but  the  young  lady  gave  hers  far  less 
cordially  than  at  the  greeting,  so  that  he  touched  barely  the 
ends  of  her  fingers.     In  going,  she  said,  — 

"  The  servant  will  show  you  the  chamber." 

And  Pan  Stanislav  was  left  alone.  He  felt  a  certain  dis- 
content, and  was  dissatisfied  with  himself,  though  he  did 
not  wish  to  acknowledge  that  fact  in  his  heart.  He  began 
even  to  persuade  himself  that  he  had  done  well,  since  he 
had  come  hither,  not  to  talk  politely,  but  to  get  money. 
What  was  Panna  Plavitski  to  him  ?  She  neither  warmed 
nor  chilled  him.  If  she  considered  him  a  churl,  so  much 
the  better ;  for  it  happens  generally  that  the  more  disagree- 
able a  creditor,  the  more  people  hasten  to  pay  liim. 

But  his  discontent  was  increased  by  that  reasoning;  for  a 
.certain  voice  whispered  to  him  that  this  time  it  was  not 
merely  a  question  of  good-breeding,  but  also  in  some  degree 
of  compassion  for  a  wearied  woman.  He  felt,  besides,  that 
by  acting  so  urgently  he  was  satisfying  his  pose,  not  his 
heart,  all  the  more  because  she  pleased  him.  As  in  that 
sleeping  village  and  in  that  moonlight  night  he  had  found 
something  special,  so  in  that  young  lady  he  found  some- 


&  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

thing  which  he  had  looked  for  in  vain  in  foreign  women, 
and  whicli  moved  him  more  than  he  expected.  But  people 
are  often  ashamed  of  feelings  which  are  very  good.  Pan 
Stanislav  was  ashamed  of  emotions,  especially ;  hence  he 
determined  to  be  inexorable,  and  on  the  morrow  to  squeeze 
old  Plavitski  without  mercy. 

Meanwhile  the  servant  conducted  him  to  the  bed-chamber. 
Pan  Stanislav  dismissed  him  at  once,  and  was  alone.  That 
was  the  same  chamber  which  they  gave  him,  when,  during 
the  life  of  Plavitski's  first  wife,  he  came  to  Kremen  witli 
his  mother ;  and  remembrances  beset  him  again.  The 
windows  looked  out  on  a  garden,  beyond  which  lay  a  pond  ; 
the  moon  was  looking  into  the  water,  and  the  pond  could 
be  seen  more  easily  than  in  former  times,  for  it  was  hidden 
then  by  a  great  aged  ash-tree,  which  must  have  been  broken 
down  by  a  storm,  since  on  that  spot  there  was  sticking  up 
merely  a  stump  with  a  f  reshl}^  broken  piece  at  the  top.  The 
light  of  the  moon  seemed  to  centre  on  that  fragment,  which 
was  gleaming  very  brightly.  All  this  produced  an  impres- 
sion of  great  calm.  Pan  Stanislav,  who  lived  in  the  city 
amid  mercantile  labors,  therefore  in  continual  tension  of 
his  physical  and  mental  powers,  and  at  the  same  time  in 
continual  unquiet,  felt  that  condition  of  the  country  around 
him  as  he  would  a  warm  bath  after  great  toil.  He  was 
penetrated  by  relief.  He  tried  to  reflect  on  business  trans- 
actions, how  were  they  turning,  would  they  give  loss  or 
profit,  finally  on  Bigiel,  his  partner,  and  how  Bigiel  would 
manage  various  interests  in  his  absence,  —  but  he  could  not 
continue. 

Then  he  began  to  think  of  Panna  Plavitski.  Her  person, 
though  it  had  made  a  good  impression,  was  indifferent  to 
him,  even  for  this  reason,  that  he  saw  her  for  the  first 
time ;  but  she  interested  him  as  a  type.  He  was  thirty 
years  old  and  something  more,  therefore  of  tl\e  age  in 
which  instinct,  with  a  force  almost  invincible,  urges  a  man 
to  establish  a  domestic  hearth,  take  a  wife,  and  have  a 
family.  The  greatest  pessimism  is  powerless  against  this 
instinct;  neither  art  nor  any  calling  in  life  protects  a  man 
against  it.  In  consequence  of  this,  misanthropes  marry  in 
spite  of  their  philosophy,  artists  in  spite  of  their  art,  as  do 
all  those  men  who  declare  that  they  give  to  their  objects 
not  a  half,  but  a  whole  soul.  Exceptions  confirm  the  prin- 
ciple that,  in  general,  men  cannot  live  a  conventional  lie  and 
swim  against  the  currents  of  nature.    For  the  great  part, 


CHILDKEN  OF  THE  SOIL.  7 

only  those  do  not  marry  for  whom  the  same  power  that 
creates  marriage  stands  in  the  way  of  it;  that  is,  those 
whom  love  has  deceived.  Hence,  celibacy  in  advanced  life, 
if  not  always,  is  most  frequently  a  hidden  tragedy. 

Stanislav  Polanyetski  was  neither  a  misanthrope  nor  an 
artist;  neither  was  he  a  man  proclaiming  theories  against 
marriage.  On  the  contrary,  he  wanted  to  marry,  and  he 
Avas  convinced  that  he  ought  to  mari-y.  He  felt  that  for 
him  the  time  had  arrived ;  hence  he  looked  around  for  the 
woman.  From  that  came  the  immense  interest  which 
women  roused  in  him,  especially  unmarried  ones.  Though 
he  had  spent  some  years  in  France  and  Belgium,  he  had  not 
sought  love  among  married  women,  even  among  those  who 
were  over  giddy.  He  was  an  active  and  occupied  person,  who 
contended  that  only  idle  men  can  romance  with  married 
women,  and  in  general  that  besieging  other  men's  wives  is 
possible  only  where  men  have  very  much  money,  little 
honor,  and  nothing  to  do,  consequently  in  a  society  where 
there  is  a  whole  class  long  since  enriched,  sunk  in  elegant 
idleness,  and  of  dishonest  life.  He  was  himself,  in  truth, 
greatly  occupied,  hence  he  wished  to  love  in  order  to 
marry;  therefore  only  unmarried  women  roused  in  him 
curiosity  of  soul  and  body.  When  he  met  a  young  lady, 
the  first  question  he  asked  himself  was,  "Is  she  not  the 
woman  ?  "  or  at  least,  "  Is  she  not  the  kind  of  woman  ?  " 
At  present  his  thoughts  were  circling  around  Panna 
Plavitski  in  this  manner.  To  begin  with,  he  had  heard 
much  of  her  from  her  relative  living  in  Warsaw;  and  he 
had  heard  things  that  were  good  and  even  touching.  Her 
calm,  mild  face  was  before  his  eyes  now.  He  recalled  her 
hands,  very  shapely,  with  long  fingers,  though  somewhat 
sunburnt,  her  dark  blue  eyes,  then  the  slight  shadow  over 
her  mouth.  Her  voice  too  pleased  him.  Notwithstanding 
all  this,  he  repeated  his  promise  that  he  would  make  no 
compromise  and  must  have  his  own ;  still  he  was  angry  at 
the  fate  which  had  brought  him  to  Kremen  as  a  creditor. 
Speaking  to  himself  in  mercantile  language,  he  repeated  in 
spirit,  "The  quality  is  good,  but  I  will  not  'reflect,'  as  I 
did  not  come  for  it." 

Still  he  "  reflected,"  and  that  to  such  a  degree  that  after 
he  had  undressed  and  lain  down,  he  could  not  sleep  for  a 
long  time.  The  cocks  began  to  crow,  the  window  panes 
were  growing  pale  and  green;  but  under  his  closed  eyelids 
he   saw   yet  the   calm   forehead   of  Panna   Plavitski,  the 


8  CHILDREN  OF  THE   SOIL. 

shadow  over  her  mouth,  and  her  hands  pouring  out  the  tea. 
Then,  when  sleep  became  overpowering,  it  seemed  to  him 
as  though  he  were  holding  those  hands  in  his  own  and 
drawing  her  toward  him,  and  she  was  pulling  back  and 
turning  her  head  aside,  as  if  to  escape  a  kiss.  In  the 
morning  he  woke  late,  and  remembering  Panna  Plavitski, 
thought,  "Ah,  she  will  look  like  that!" 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 


CHAPTER  II. 

He  was  roused  by  the  servant,  who  brought  coffee  and 
took  his  clothes  to  be  brushed.  When  the  servant  brought 
them  back,  Pan  Stanislav  asked  if  it  were  not  the  custom 
of  the  house  to  meet  in  the  dining-room  for  coffee. 

"  No,"  answered  the  servant ;  "  because  the  young  lady 
rises  early,  and  the  old  gentleman  sleeps  late." 

"  And  has  the  young  lady  risen  ?  " 

"  The  young  lady  is  at  church." 

"  True,  to-day  is  Sunday.  But  does  not  the  young  lady 
go  to  church  with  the  old  gentleman  ?  " 

"  No  ;  the  old  gentleman  goes  to  high  Mass,  and  then 
goes  to  visit  the  canon,  so  the  young  lady  prefers  early 
Mass." 

"  What  do  they  do  here  on  Sunday  ?  " 

"  They  sit  at  home  ;  Pan  Gantovski  comes  to  dinner." 

Pan  Stanislav  knew  this  Gantovski  as  a  small  boy.  In 
those  times  they  nicknamed  him  "  Little  Bear,"  for  he  was 
a  thick  little  fellow,  awkward  and  surly.  The  servant 
explained  that  Pan  Gantovski's  father  had  died  about  five 
years  before,  and  that  the  young  man  was  managing  his 
estate  in  the  neighboring  Yalbrykov. 

''And  does  he  come  here  every  Sunday?" 

"  Sometimes  he  comes  on  a  week  day  in  the  evening." 

"  A  rival !  "  thought  Pan  Stanislav.  After  a  while  he 
inquired,  — 

"  Has  the  old  gentleman  risen  ?  " 

"  It  must  be  that  he  has  rung  the  bell,  for  Yozef  has 
gone  to  him." 

"  Who  is  Yozef  ?  " 

"  The  valet." 

"  And  who  art  thou  ?  " 

"  I  am  his  assistant." 

"  Go  and  inquire  when  it  will  be  possible  to  see  the  old 
gentleman." 

The  servant  went  out  and  returned  soon. 

"  The  old  gentleman  sends  to  say  that  when  he  dresses 
he  will  beg  you  to  come." 

"Very  well." 


10  CUILDREX  OF  TliE  SOII^ 


The  serrant  went  ovi;  !Buk  StuuslatT  iTMiiiifirt  alons  aai 
vaited^  or  mtlier  vas  bored,  a  good  «Mle.  Butmeo  begv^ 
to  Ml  him  at.  last;  andbevasabouklostraJl  tottftgudu^ 
vben  Yoanef  eame  vith  tiie  aammaaemKaSL  ttaJt  tbe  old  geii- 
tleiniKui  beggyd  him  to  cohml 

Yoisef  eocKiodted  him  tkm  to  a  diamber  at  tiw  okim'  end 
of  the  house.  F^a  StaiusIaT  entmed,  and  ak  the  fosfc 
moment  did  not  reeognias  Fm  PiKritsld.  Us  nmoafamed 
him  as  a  peison  in  the  bloom  of  lifo  and  -naj  good^ooldns  ; 
nov  an  old  man  stood  before  him,  viA  a  faee  as  wnnkled 
as  a  baked  afvple, — a  bt»  to  tdunh  small  bhrVunnd  mns- 
taehes  strore  in  rain  to  Inad  the  a^peannce  oCyonth.  Hair 
as  hbek  as  the  mastaehns,aBd.  paurted  lov  a&  the  side  of  tibe 
head^  indieated  also  preftmsioas  as  j^  onestangvished. 

Bat  Flaritshi  <^pe»ed  his  anas:  •<$tas!  how  aii  tim, 
dear  bojr?  Come  hitdMtr!*  And,  pointbig  to  his  vhito 
sluit«  he'  eubraeed  id«  head  of  ^^ua  StanisfaiT,  and  pressed 
it  to  his  bosom,  vhidn  moved  wxA  qoiek  bwatJiing. 

The  embiaee  eoBtinaed  a  long  tisM',  and  lor  ^Km  Slan>»> 
lar^  m»eb  too  loi^.    ^nKvitski  said  aft  las^ — 

^  Let  me  UmiIe:  at  thee,  Anna,  drap  for  dn^ !  M j  poor 
beloTed  Anna,  S  '^  and  Fla^tski  sobbed ;  timi  lie  v^ed  wiJAi 
his  heait  finger*  his  right  ejeUd,  on  vhieh,  hoverer,  there 
vas  not  a  tear,  and  repeated, — 

^  As  tike  Anna  as  one  drc^  is  Kke  another!  Tlijmottter 
was  alvajs  for  me  Am  best  and  the  most  loving  idWtive.* 

Fan  SlanislaT  stood  befoie  him  eonfoaed,  also  somevhafc 
stnnned  by  a  reeqplion  sadu  as  he  had  not  expected,  and 
bjr  the  odor  of  vaa^  powder,  and  Tanoos  petfnmes,  iriki«^ 
eame  from  the  foee^  mnartaehe^,  and  shirt  «a  the  old  man. 

"^How  is  my  dear  vnele  ?'^  asked  he  at  hs^  jndgii^  ^hat 
tibis  titie,  vhach  moreorer  he  had  gixtm  in  years  of  diild- 
hood  to  PlaTitsk],  would  answer  best  to  the  solunn  mannw 
of  his  reeeptioa. 

•^  How  am  I?"  lejpeatod  FfaiTitskL  ■'Not  long  for  me 
now,  not  loi«!  Bat  |ast  for  tins  reason  I  greet  thee  in  my 
hoose  witik  tihe  greater  affection,  —  I  greet  thee  as  a  fother. 
And  if  the  Uenang  of  a  man  standing  oxer  idie  gcare^  end 
who  at  the  same  tone  is  the  ddest  memb»  of  the  foaoly, 
has  in  th^  eyes  any  Tafaie,  I  give  it  thee>* 

And  sizing  F^A  StanislaT^s  head  a  seeond  time,  he  kissed 
It  and  blessed  him.  Ihe  yoong  man  dianged  stiU  more, 
and  eonstnint  was  expressed  on  his  foee.    ffis  mother  was 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  11 

a  relative  and  friend  of  Plavitski's  first  wife  :  to  Plavitski 
himself  no  affectionate  feelings  had  ever  attracted  her,  so 
far  as  he  could  remember  ;  hence  the  solemnity  of  the  recep- 
tion, to  which  he  was  forced  to  yield,  was  immensely  dis- 
agreeable to  him.  Pan  Stanislav  had  not  the  least  family 
feeling  for  Plavitski.  "  This  monkey,"  thought  he,  "  is 
blessing  me  instead  of  talking  money ; "  and  he  was  seized 
by  a  certain  indignation,  which  might  help  him  to  explain 
matters  clearly. 

"Now  sit  down,  dear  boy,"  said  Plavitski,  "and  be  as 
if  in  thy  own  house." 

Pan  Stanislav  took  a  seat,  and  began,  "Dear  uncle,  for 
me  it  is  very  pleasant  to  visit  uncle.  I  should  have  done 
so  surely,  even  without  business;  but  uncle  knows  that  I 
have  come  also  on  that  affair  which  ray  mother  — " 

Here  the  old  man  laid  his  hand  on  Pan  Stanislav 's  knee 
suddenly.     "But  hast  thou  drunk  coffee?"  asked  he. 

"I  have,"  answered  Pan  Stanislav,  driven  from  his 
track. 

"Marynia  goes  to  church  early.  I  beg  pardon,  too, 
that  I  have  not  given  thee  my  room;  but  I  am  old,  I 
am  accustomed  to  sleep  here.  This  is  my  nest."  Then, 
with  a  circular  sweep  of  the  hand,  he  directed  attention 
to  the  chamber. 

Unconsciously  Pan  Stanislav  let  his  eyes  follow  the 
motion  of  the  hand.  On  a  time  this  chamber  had  been  to 
him  a  ceaseless  temptation,  for  in  it  had  hung  the  arms  of 
Plavitski.  The  only  change  in  it  was  the  wall,  which 
in  the  old  time  was  rose-colored,  and  represented,  on  an 
endless  number  of  squares,  young  shepherdesses,  dressed 
a  la  Wattemi,  and  catching  fish  with  hooks.  At  the 
window  stood  a  toilet-table  with  a  white  cover,  and  a 
mirror  in  a  silver  frame.  On  the  table  was  a  multitude 
of  little  pots,  vials,  boxes,  brushes,  combs,  nail  files,  etc. 
At  one  side,  in  the  corner,  was  a  table  with  pipes  and 
pipe-stems  with  amber  mouth-pieces;  on  the  wall,  above 
the  sofa,  was  the  head  of  a  wild  boar,  and  under  it  two 
double-barrelled  guns,  a  hunting-bag,  horns,  and,  in 
general,  the  weapons  of  hunting;  in  the  depth  was  a  table 
with  papers,  open  shelves  with  a  certain  number  of  books. 
Everywhere  the  place  was  full  of  old  furniture  more  or  less 
needed  and  ornamental,  but  indicating  that  the  occupant 
of  the  chamber  was  the  centre  around  which  everything 
turned  in  that  house,  and  that  he  cared  greatly  for  him- 


12  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

self.  In  one  word,  it  was  the  chamber  of  an  old  single 
man,  —  an  egotist  full  of  petty  anxiety  for  his  personal 
comfort,  and  full  of  pretensions.  Pan  Stanislav  did  not 
need  long  reflection  to  divine  that  Plavitski  would  not 
give  up  his  chamber  for  anything,  nor  to  an}''  man. 

But  the  hospitable  host  inquired  further,  "  Was  it  comfor- 
table enough  for  thee?     How  didst  thou  spend  the  night?" 

"Perfectly;  I  rose  late." 

"But  thou  wilt  stay  a  week  or  so  with  me?" 

Pan  Stanislav,  who  was  very  impulsive,  sprang  up  from 
his  chair. 

"  Does  n't  uncle  know  that  I  have  business  in  Warsaw, 
and  a  partner,  who  at  present  is  doing  all  our  work  alone? 
I  must  go  at  the  earliest;  and  to-day  I  should  like  to  finish 
the  business  on  which  I  have  come." 

To  this  Plavitski  answered  with  a  certain  cordial  dignity, 
"No,  my  boy.  To-day  is  Sunday;  and  besides,  family 
feeling  should  go  before  business.  To-day  I  greet  thee, 
and  receive  thee  as  a  blood  relative;  to-morrow,  if  thou 
wish,  appear  as  a  creditor.  That  is  it.  To-day  my  Stas 
has  come  to  me,  the  son  of  my  Anna.  Thus  will  it  be 
till  to-morrow;  thus  should  it  be,  Stas.  This  is  said  to 
thee  by  thy  eldest  relative,  who  loves  thee,  and  for  whom 
thou  shouldst  do  this." 

Pan  Stanislav  frowned  a  little,  but  after  a  while  he 
answered,  "Let  it  be  so  till  to-morrow." 

"Anna  spoke  through  thee  then.     Dost  smoke  a  pipe?" 

"No,  only  cigarettes." 

"Believe  me,  thou  doest  ill.  But  I  have  cigarettes  for 
guests." 

Further  conversation  was  interrupted  by  the  rattle  of  an 
equipage  at  the  entrance. 

"That  is  Marynia,  who  has  come  from  early  Mass,"  said 
Plavitski. 

Pan  Stanislav  looked  out  through  the  window,  and  saw 
a  young  lady  in  a  straw  hat  stepping  out  of  the  equipage. 

"Hast  made  the  acquaintance  of  Marynia?"  asked 
Plavitski. 

"I  had  the  pleasure  yesterday." 

"  She  is  a  dear  child.  I  need  not  teU  thee  that  I  live 
only  for  her  —  " 

At  that  moment  the  door  opened,  and  a  youthful  voice 
asked,  "  May  I  come  in?" 

"Come  in,  come  in;  Stas  is  here!  "  answered  Plavitski. 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  13 

Marynia  entered  the  chamber  quickly,  with  her  hat 
hanging  by  ribUons  over  her  shoulder;  and  when  she  had 
embraced  her  father,  she  gave  her  hand  to  Pan  Stanislav. 
In  her  rose-colored  muslin,  she  looked  exceedingly  graceful 
and  pretty.  There  was  about  her  something  of  the  char- 
acter of  Sunday,  and  with  it  the  freshness  of  that  morning, 
which  was  bright  and  calm.  Her  hair  had  been  ruffled  a 
little  by  her  hat;  her  cheeks  were  blooming;  and  youth 
ivas  breathing  from  her  person.  To  Pan  Stanislav,  she 
seemed  more  joyous  and  more  shapely  than  the  previous 
evening. 

"High  Mass  will  be  a  little  later  to-day,"  said  she  to 
her  father ;  "  for  immediately  after  Mass  the  canon  went  to 
the  mill  to  prepare  Pani  Siatkovski;  she  is  very  ill.  Papa 
will  have  half  an  hour  yet," 

"That  is  well,"  said  Plavitski;  "during  that  time  thou 
wilt  become  more  nearly  acquainted  with  Stas.  I  tell 
thee,  drop  for  drop  like  Anna!  But  thou  hast  never  seen 
her.  Remember,  too,  Marynia,  that  he  will  be  our  creditor 
to-morrow,  if  he  wishes ;  but  to-day  he  is  only  our  relative 
and  guest." 

"Very  well,"  answered  the  young  lady;  "we  shall  have 
a  pleasant  Sunday." 

"  You  went  to  sleep  so  late  yesterday,"  said  Pan  Stanislav, 
"and  to-day  you  were  at  early  Mass." 

She  answered  merrily,  "  The  cook  and  I  go  to  early  Mass 
that  we  may  have  time  afterward  to  think  of  dinner." 

"I  forgot  to  mention,"  said  Pan  Stanislav,  "that  I  bring 
you  salutations  from  Pani  Emilia  Hvastovski." 

"I  have  not  seen  Emilia  for  a  year  and  a  half,  but  we 
write  to  each  other  often.  She  is  about  to  visit  Reichen- 
hall,  for  the  sake  of  her  little  daughter," 

"She  was  ready  to  start  when  I  saw  her." 

"But  how  is  the  little  girl?" 

"She  is  in  her  twelfth  year;  she  has  grown  beyond 
measure,  and  is  pale.  It  does  not  seem  that  she  is  very 
healthy." 

"Do  you  visit  Emilia  often?" 

"Rather  often.  She  is  almost  my  only  acquaintance  in 
Warsaw.     Besides,  I  like  Pani  Emilia  very  much,'' 

"Tell  me,  my  boy,"  inquired  Plavitski,  taking  a  pair  of 
fresh  gloves  from  the  table,  and  putting  them  into  a  breast- 
pocket, "what  is  thy  particular  occupation  in  Warsaw?" 

"I  am  what  is  called  an  'aifairist;'  I  have  a  commis- 


14  CHILDREN  OF  THE   SOIL. 

sion  house  in  company  with  a  certain  Bigiel.  I  speculate 
in  wheat  and  sugar,  sometimes  in  timber;  in  anything  that 
gives  profit." 

"  I  have  heard  that  thou  art  an  engineer  ?  " 

"I  have  my  specialty.  But  on  my  return  I  could  not 
find  occupation  at  any  factory,  and  I  began  at  mercantile 
transactions,  all  the  more  readily  that  I  had  some  idea  of 
them.     But  my  specialty  is  dyeing." 

"How  dost  thou  say?"  inquired  Plavitski. 

"Dyeing." 

"The  times  are  such  now  that  one  must  take  up  any- 
thing," said  Plavitski,  with  dignity.  "I  am  not  the  man 
to  take  that  ill  of  thee.  If  thou  wilt  only  retain  the 
honorable  old  traditions  of  the  family,  no  occupation 
brings  shame  to  a  man." 

Pan  Stanislav,  to  whom  the  appearance  of  the  young 
lady  had  brought  back  his  good  nature,  and  who  was 
amused  by  the  sudden  "  gi-andezza  "  of  the  old  man,  showed 
his  sound  teeth  in  a  smile,  and  answered,  — 

"Praise  God  for  that!" 

Panna  Plavitski  smiled  in  like  manner,  and  said, 
"Emilia,  who  likes  you  very  much,  wrote  to  me  once 
that  you  conduct  your  business  perfectly." 

"The  only  difficulty  in  this  country  is  with  Jews;  still 
competition  is  easy.  And  with  Jews  it  is  possible  to 
get  on  by  abstaining  from  anti-Semitic  manifestoes.  As 
to  Pani  Emilia,  however,  she  knows  as  much  about  busi- 
ness as  does  her  little  Litka." 

"Yes;  she  has  never  been  practical.  Had  it  not  been 
for  her  husband's  brother.  Pan  Teofil  Hvastovski,  she 
would  have  lost  all  she  has.  But  Pan  Teofil  loves  Litka 
greatly."   . 

"Who  doesn't  love  Litka?  I,  to  begin  with,  am  dying 
about  her.  She  is  such  a  marvellous  child,  and  such  a 
favorite;  I  tell  you  that  I  have  a  real  weakness  for  her." 

Panna  Marynia  looked  attentively  at  his  honest,  viva- 
cious face,  and  thought,  "He  must  be  a  little  whimsical, 
but  he  has  a  good  heart." 

Plavitski  remarked,  meanwhile,  that  it  was  time  for 
Mass,  and  he  began  to  take  farewell  of  Marynia  in  such 
fashion  as  if  he  were  going  on  a  journey  of  some  mouths; 
then  he  made  the  sign  of  the  cross  on  her  head,  and  took 
his  hat.  The  young  lady  pressed  Pan  Stanislav 's  hand 
with   more   life   than  at  the  morning  greeting;  he,  when 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  15 

sitting  in  the  little  equipage,  repeated  in  his  mind,  *'0h, 
she  is  very  nice,  very  sympathetic." 

Beyond  the  alley,  by  which  Pan  Stanislav  had  come  the 
night  before,  the  equipage  rolled  over  a  road  which  was 
beset  here  and  there  with  old  and  decayed  birches  stand' 
ing  at  unequal  distances  from  one  another.  On  one  side 
stretched  a  potato-field,  on  the  other  an  enormous  plain 
of  wheat,  with  heavy  bent  heads,  which  seemed  to  sleep 
in  the  still  air  and  in  the  full  light  of  the  sun.  Before 
tlie  carriage,  magpies  and  hoopoes  flew  among  the  birches. 
jMoving  along  paths  through  the  yellow  sea  of  wheat,  and 
hidden  in  it  to  their  shoulders,  went  village  maidens  with 
red  kerchiefs  on  their  heads,  which  resembled  blooming 
poppies. 

"Good  wheat,"  said  Pan  Stanislav. 

"]!^ot  bad.  What  is  in  man's  power  is  done,  and  what 
God  gives  He  gives.  Thou  art  young,  my  dear,  so  I  give 
thee  a  precept,  which  in  future  will  be  of  service  to  thee 
more  than  once,  *  Do  always  that  which  pertains  to  thee, 
and  leave  the  rest  to  the  Lord  God.'  He  knows  best  what 
we  need.  The  harvest  will  be  good  this  year;  I  know 
that  beforehand,  for  when  God  is  going  to  touch  me  with 
anything,  He  sends  a  sign." 

"What  is  it?  "  asked  Pan  Stanislav,  with  astonishment. 

"Behind  my  pipe-table  —  T  do  not  know  whether  thou 
hast  noted  where  it  stands  —  a  mouse  shows  himself  to  me 
a  number  of  days  in  succession  when  any  evil  is  coming." 

"There  must  be  a  hole  in  the  floor." 

"There  is  no  hole,"  said  Plavitski,  closing  his  eyes,  and 
shaking  his  head  mysteriously. 
'    "One  might  bring  in  a  cat." 

"I  will  not  bring  in  a  cat,  for  if  it  is  the  will  of  God 
that  that  mouse  should  be  a  sign  to  me,  or  forewarning,  I 
shall  not  go  against  that  will.  Nothing  has  appeared  to 
me  this  year.  I  mentioned  this  to  Marynia;  maybe  God 
desires  in  some  way  to  show  that  He  is  watching  over  our 
family.  Listen,  my  dear;  people  will  say,  1  know,  that 
we  are  ruined,  or  at  least  in  a  very  bad  state.  Here  it  is; 
judge  for  thyself:  Kremen  and  Skoki,  Magyerovka  and 
Suhotsin,  contain  about  two  hundred  and  fifty  vlokas  of 
land;  on  that  tliere  is  a  debt  of  thirty  thousand  rubles  to 
the  society,  not  more,  and  about  a  hundred  thousand  mort- 
gage, including  thy  sum.  Therefore  we  have  about  a 
hundred  and  thirty  thousand.     Let  us  estimate  only  three 


16  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

thousand  rubles  a  vloka;  that  will  make  seven  humlreil 
and  fifty  thousand,  — altogether  eight  hundred  and  eighty 
thousand  —  " 

"How  is  that?"  asked  Pan  Stanislav,  with  astonish- 
ment;   "uncle  is  including  the  debt  with  the  property." 

"If  the  property  were  worth  nothing,  no  one  would  give 
me  a  copper  for  it,  so  I  add  the  debt  to  the  value  of  the 
property." 

Pan  Stanislav  thought,  "He  is  a  lunatic,  with  whom  it 
is  useless  to  talk  ;  "  and  he  listened  further  in  silence. 

"I  intend  to  parcel  out  Magyerovka.  The  mill  I  will 
sell;  but  in  Skoki  and  Suhotsin  I  have  marl,  and  knowest 
thou  at  how  much  I  have  estimated  it?  At  tjwo  million 
rubles." 

"  Has  uncle  a  purchaser?  " 

"Two  years  ago  a  certain  Shaum  came  and  looked  at  the 
fields.  He  went  away,  it  is  true,  without  speaking  of  the 
business;  but  I  am  sure  that  he  will  come  again,  otherwise 
the  mouse  would  have  appeared  behind  the  pipe-table." 

"Ha!  let  him  come  again." 

"Knowest  thou  another  thing  that  comes  to  my  head? 
Since  thou  art  an  '  atfairist,'  take  up  this  business.  Find 
thyself  partners,  that  is  all." 

"The  business  is  too  large  for  me." 

"Then  find  me  a  purchaser;  1  will  give  ten  per  cent  of 
the  proceeds." 

"  What  (Toes  Panna  Marynia  think  of  this  marl?" 

"Marynia,  how  Marynia?  She  is  a  golden  child,  but 
still  a  child !  She  believes  that  Providence  watches  over 
our  family." 

"I  heard  that  from  her  yesterday." 

Meanwhile  they  had  drawn  near  Vantory  and  the  church, 
on  a  hill  among  linden-trees.  Under  the  hill  stood  a 
number  of  peasant- wagons  with  ladder-like  boxes,  and 
some  brichkas  and  carriages.  Pan  Plavitski  made  the 
sign  of  the  cross,  and  said,  "This  is  our  little  church, 
which  thou  must  remember.  All  the  Plavitskis  lie  here, 
and  I,  too,  shall  be  lying  here  soon.  I  never  pray  better 
than  in  this  place." 

"There  will  be  many  people,  I  see,"  said  Pan  Stanislav. 

"Gantovski's  brichka,  Zazimski's  coach,  Yamish's  car- 
riage, and  a  number  of  others  are  there.  Thou  must 
remember  the  Yamishes.  She  is  an  uncommon  woman; 
he  pretends  to  be  a  great  agriculturist  and  a  councillor, 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  17 

but  he  is  an  old  dotard,  who  never  did  understand 
her." 

At  that  moment  the  bell  began  to  sound  in  the  church 
tower. 

"They  have  seen  us,  and  are  ringing  the  bell,"  said 
Plavitski;  "Mass  will  begin  this  moment.  I  will  take 
thee,  after  Mass,  to  the  grave  of  my  first  wife;  pray  for 
her,  since  she  was  thy  aunt.  She  was  an  honest  woman; 
the  Lord  light  her." 

Here  Plavitski  raised  his  finger  again  to  rub  his  right 
eye.  Pan  Stauislav  therefore  asked,  wishing  to  change 
the  conversation,  — 

"But  was  not  Pani  Yamish  once  very  beautiful?  or  is 
this  the  same  one?" 

Plavitski's  face  gleamed  suddenly.  He  thrust  out  for 
one  moment  the  end  of  his  tongue  from  his  blackened 
little  mustaches,  and  patting  Pan  Stanislav  on  the  thigh, 
said,  — 

"She  is  worth  a  sin  yet,  —  she  is,  she  is." 

Meanwhile  they  drove  in,  and  after  walking  around  the 
church,  entered  the  sacristy  at  the  side ;  not  wishing  to  push 
through  the  crowd,  they  sat  on  side  seats  near  the  altar. 
Plavitski  occupied  the  collator's  place,  in  which  were  also 
the  Yamishes.  Yamish  was  a  man  very  old  in  appear- 
ance, with  an  intelligent  face,  but  weighed  down;  she  was 
a  woman  well  toward  sixty,  dressed  almost  like  Panna 
Marynia,  — that  is,  in  a  muslin  robe  and  a  straw  hat.  The 
bows,  full  of  politeness,  which  Pan  Plavitski  made  to  her, 
and  the  kind  smiles  with  which  she  returned  them,  showed 
that  between  those  two  reigned  intimate  relations  founded 
on  mutual  adoration.  After  a  while  the  lady,  raising  her 
glasses  to  her  eyes,  began  to  observe  Pan  Stanislav,  not 
understanding  apparently  who  could  have  come  with  Pan 
Plavitski.  In  the  seat  behind  them  one  of  the  neighbors, 
taking  advantage  of  the  fact  that  Mass  had  not  begun  yet, 
was  finishing  some  narrative  about  hunting,  and  repeated  a 
number  of  times  to  another  neighbor,  "My  dogs,  well  —  " 
then  both  stopped  their  conversation,  and  began  to  speak  to 
Plavitski  and  Pani  Yamish  so  audibly  that  every  word 
reached  the  ears  of  Pan  Stanislav.  The  priest  came  out 
to  the  altar  then. 

At  sight  of  the  Mass  and  that  little  church,  Pan  Stanis- 
lav's  memory  went  back  to  the  years  of  his  childhood, 
when  he  was  there  with  his  mother.     Wonder  rose  in  him 

2 


18  CHILDREN  OF  THE   SOIL. 

involuntarily  when  he  thought  how  little  anything  changes 
in  the  country,  except  people.  Some  are  -placed  away  in 
consecrated  earth;  others  are  born.  But  the  new  life  puts 
itself  into  the  old  forms;  and  to  him  who  comes  from  afar, 
after  a  long  absence,  all  that  he  saw  long  ago  seems  of 
yesterday.  The  church  was  the  same;  the  nave  was  filled, 
as  of  old,  with  flaxen -colored  heads  of  peasants,  gray  coats, 
red  and  yellow  kerchiefs  with  flowers  on  the  heads  of  the 
maidens;  it  had  precisely  the  same  kind  of  odor  of  incense, 
of  sweet  flag,  and  the  exhalations  of  people.  Outside  one 
of  the  windows  grew  the  same  birch-tree,  whose  slender 
branches,  thrown  against  the  panes  by  the  wind  as  it  rose, 
cast  shade  which  gave  a  green  tinge  to  light  in  the  church. 
But  the  people  were  not  the  same :  some  of  the  former 
ones  were  crumbling  quietly  into  dust,  or  had  made  their 
way  from  beneath  the  earth  in  the  form  of  grass;  those 
who  were  left  yet  were  somehow  bent,  as  if  going  under 
ground  gradually.  Pan  Stanislav,  who  plumed  himself  on 
avoiding  all  generalizing  theories,  but  who  in  reality  had  a 
Slav  head,  which,  as  it  were,  had  not  emerged  yet  from 
universal  existence,  occupied  himself  with  them  involun- 
tarily; and  all  the  time  he  was  thinking  that  there  is  still 
a  terrible  precipice  between  that  passion  for  life  innate  in 
people  and  the  absoluteness  of  death.  He  thought,  also, 
that  perhaps  for  this  reason  all  systems  of  philosophy 
vanish,  like  shadows;  but  Mass  is  celebrated,  as  of  old, 
because  it  alone  promises  further  and  unbroken  continuity. 
Reared  abroad,  he  did  not  believe  in  it  greatly ;  at  least, 
he  was  not  certain  of  it.  He  felt  in  himself,  as  do  all 
people  of  to-day,  the  very  newest  people,  an  irrestrainable 
repugnance  to  materialism ;  but  from  it  he  had  not  found 
an  escape  yet,  and,  what  is  more,  it  seemed  to  him  that 
he  was  not  seeking  it.  He  was  an  unconscious  pessimist, 
like  those  who  are  looking  for  something  which  they  can- 
not find.  He  stunned  himself  with  occupations  to  which 
he  was  habituated ;  and  only  in  moments  of  great  excess  in 
that  pessimism  did  he  ask  himself.  What  is  this  all  for  ? 
Of  what  use  is  it  to  gain  property,  labor,  marry,  beget 
children,  if  everything  ends  in  an  abyss  ?  But  that  was 
at  times,  and  did  not  become  a  fixed  principle.  Youth 
saved  him  from  this,  not  the  first  youth,  but  also  not  a 
youth  nearing  its  end,  a  certain  mental  and  physical 
strength,  the  instinct  of  self-preservation,  the  habit  of 
work,   vivacity  of   character,   and   finally  that  elementaJ 


CHILDREN  OF  THE   SOIL.  19 

force,  which  pushes  a  man  into  the  arms  of  a  woman.  And 
now  from  the  recollections  of  childhood,  from  thoughts 
of  death,  from  doubts  as  to  the  litness  of  marriage,  he 
came  to  this  special  thought,  that  he  had  no  one  to  whom 
he  could  give  what  was  best  in  him ;  and  tb.en  he  came  to 
Panna  ]Mar3mia  Plavitski,  whose  muslin  robe,  covering  a 
young  and  shapely  body,  did  not  leave  his  eyes.  He  re- 
membered that  when  he  was  leaving  Warsaw,  Pani  Emilia, 
a  great  friend  of  his  and  of  Panna  Marynia's,  had  said 
laughingly,— 

"  If  you,  after  being  in  Kremeu,  do  not  fall  in  love  with 
Marynia,  I  shall  close  my  doors  against  you."  He  an- 
swered her  with  great  courage  that  he  was  going  only  to 
squeeze  out  money,  not  to  fall  in  love,  but  that  was  not 
true.  If  Panna  Plavitski  had  not  been  in  Kremen,  he 
would  surely  have  throttled  Plavitski  by  letter,  or  by 
legal  methods.  On  the  way  he  had  been  thinking  of 
Panna  Marynia  and  of  how  she  would  look,  and  he  was 
angry  because  he  was  going  for  money,  too.  Having 
talked  into  himself  great  decision  in  such  matters,  he  de- 
termined above  all  to  obtain  what  belonged  to  him,  and 
was  ready  rather  to  go  beyond  the  mark  than  not  to  reach 
it.  He  promised  this  to  himself,  especially  the  first  even- 
ing, wlien  Marynia,  though  she  had  pleased  him  well 
enough,  had  not  produced  such  a  great  impression  as  he 
had  expected,  or  rather  hud  produced  a  different  one ;  but 
that  morning  she  had  taken  his  eye  greatly.  "  She  is  like 
the  morning  herself,"  thought  he ;  "  she  is  nice  and  knows 
that  she  is  nice,  —  women  always  know  that." 

This  last  discovery  made  him  somewhat  impatient,  for 
he  wished  to  return  as  soon  as  possible  to  Kremen,  to 
observe  the  young  woman  further.  In  fact,  Mass  was  over 
soon.  Plavitski  went  out  immediately  after  the  blessing, 
for  he  had  two  duties  before  him,  — the  first,  to  pray  on  the 
graves  of  his  two  wives  who  were  lying  under  the  church ; 
the  second,  to  conduct  Pani  Yamish  to  her  carriage.  Since 
he  wished  to  neglect  neither  of  these,  he  had  to  count  with 
time.  Pan  Stanislav  went  with  him ;  and  soon  they  found 
themselves  before  the  stone  slabs,  erected  side  by  side  in 
the  church  wall.  Plavitski  kneeled  and  prayed  awhile 
with  attention ;  then  he  rose,  and  wiping  away  a  tear, 
which  was  hanging  really  on  his  lids,  took  Pan  Stan- 
islav by  the  arm,  and  said,  "  Yes,  I  lost  both ;  still  I  must 
live."  ' 


20  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

Meanwhile  Pani  Yamish  appeared  before  the  church  door 
in  the  company  of  her  husband,  of  those  two  neighbors 
who  had  spoken  to  her  before  Mass,  and  of  young  Gantovski. 
At  sight  of  her  Pan  Plavitski  bent  to  Pan  Stanislav's  ear 
and  said,  — 

"  When  she  enters  the  carriage,  take  notice  what  a  foot 
she  has  yet." 

After  a  while  both  joined  the  company ;  bows  and  greet- 
ings began.  Pan  Plavitski  presented  Pan  Polanyetski ;  then, 
turning  to  Pani  Yamish,  he  added,  with  the  smile  of  a  man 
convinced  that  he  says  something  which  no  common  person 
could  have  hit  upon,  — 

"My  relative,  who  has  come  to  embrace  his  uncle,  and 
squeeze  him." 

"  We  will  permit  only  the  first ;  otherwise  he  will  have 
au  affair  with  us,"  said  the  lady. 

"  But  Kremen  ^  is  hard,"  continued  Plavitski ;  "  he  will 
break  his  teeth  on  it,  though  he  is  young." 

Pani  Yamish  half  closed  her  eyes.  "  That  ease,"  said 
she,  "with  which  you  scatter  sparks,  cest  inouif  How  is 
your  health  to-day  ?  " 

"At  this  moment  I  feel  healthy  and  young." 

"  And  Marynia  ?  " 

"  She  was  at  early  Mass.  We  wait  for  you  both  at  five. 
My  little  housekeeper  is  breaking  her  head  over  supper.  A 
beautiful  day." 

"  We  shall  come  if  neuralgia  lets  me,  and  my  lord  hus- 
band is  willing." 

"  How  is  it,  neighbor  ?  "  asked  Plavitski. 

"  I  am  always  glad  to  go,"  answered  the  neighbor,  with 
the  voice  of  a  crushed  man. 

"  Then,  au  revoir." 

"  Au  revoir,^^  answered  the  lady ;  and  turning  to  Pan 
Stanislav,  she  reached  her  hand  to  him.  "  It  was  a  pleas- 
ure for  me  to  make  your  acquaintance." 

Plavitski  gave  his  arm  to  the  lady,  and  conducted  her  to 
the  carriage.  The  two  neighbors  went  away  also.  Pan 
Stanislav  remained  a  while  with  Gantovski,  who  looked  at 
him  without  much  good-will.  Pan  Stanislav  remembered 
him  as  an  awkward  boy ;  from  the  "  Little  Bear,"  he  had 
grown  to  be  a  stalwart  man,  somewhat  heavy  perhaps  in 
his  movements,  but  rather  presentable,  with  a  very  shapely, 

^  Kremen  means  flint  in  Polish. 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  21 

light-colored  mustache.  Pan  Stanislav  did  not  begin  con- 
versation, waiting  till  the  other  should  speak  first ;  but  he 
thrust  his  hands  into  his  pockets,  and  maintained  a  stubborn 
silence. 

*'  His  former  manners  have  remained  with  him,"  thought 
Pan  Stanislav,  who  felt  now  an  aversion  to  that  surly  fellow. 

Meanwhile  Plavitski  returned  from  Yamish's  carriage. 

"Hast  taken  notice  ?  "  asked  he  of  Pan  Stanislav,  first  of 
all.  "  Well,  Gantos,"  said  he  then,  "  thou  wilt  go  in  thy 
brichka,  for  in  the  carriage  there  are  only  two  places." 

"  I  will  go  in  the  brichka,  for  I  am  taking  a  dog  to  Panna 
Marynia,"  answered  the  young  man,  who  bowed  and  walked 
off. 

After  a  while  Pan  Plavitski  and  Pan  Stanislav  found 
themselves  on  the  road  to  Kremen. 

"  This  Gantovski  is  uncle's  relative,  I  suppose  ?  "  asked 
Pan  Stanislav. 

"  The  tenth  water  after  a  jelly.  They  are  very  much 
fallen.  This  Adolph  has  one  little  farm  and  emptiness  in 
his  pocket." 

"  But  in  his  heart  there  is  surely  no  emptiness  ?" 

Pan  Plavitski  pouted.  "  So  much  the  worse  for  him,  if 
he  imagines  anything.  He  may  be  good,  but  he  is  simple. 
No  breeding,  no  education,  no  property.  Marynia  likes 
him,  or  rather  she  endures  him." 

"  Ah,  does  she  endure  him  ?" 

"  See  thou  how  it  is :  I  sacrifice  myself  for  her  and  stay 
in  the  country ;  she  sacrifices  herself  for  me  and  stays  in 
the  country.  There  is  no  one  here ;  Pani  Yaraish  is  con- 
siderably older  than  Marynia;  in  general,  there  are  no 
young  people  ;  life  here  is  tedious :  but  what 's  to  be  done  ? 
Remember,  my  boy,  that  life  is  a  series  of  sacrifices.  There 
is  need  for  thee  to  carry  that  principle  in  thy  heart  and  thy 
head.  Those  especially  who  belong  to  honorable  and  more 
prominent  families  should  not  forget  this.  But  Gantovski 
is  with  us  always  on  Sunday  for  dinner ;  and  to-day,  as 
thou  hast  heard,  he  is  bringing  a  dog." 

They  dropped  into  silence,  and  drove  along  the  sand 
slowly.  The  magpies  flew  before  them  from  birch  to  birch, 
this  time  in  the  direction  of  Kremen.  Behind  Plavitski's 
little  carriage  rode  in  his  brichka  Pan  Gantovski,  who, 
thinking  of  Pan  Stanislav,  said  to  himself,  — 

"  If  he  comes  as  a  creditor  to  squeeze  them,  I  '11  break 
his  neck ;  if  he  comes  as  a  rival,  I  '11  break  it  too." 


22  CHILDREN  OF  THE   SOIL. 

From  childhood,  he  had  cherished  hostile  feelings  toward 
Polanyetski.  In  those  days  they  met  once  in  a  while. 
Polanyetski  used  to  laugh  at  him ;  and,  being  a  couple 
of  years  older,  he  even  beat  him. 

Plavitski  and  his  guest  arrived  at  last,  and,  half  an  hour 
later,  all  found  themselves  at  table  in  the  dining-room,  with 
Panna  Marynia.  The  young  dog,  brought  by  Gantovski, 
taking  advantage  of  his  privilege  of  guest,  moved  about 
under  the  table,  and  sometimes  got  on  the  knees  of  those 
present  with  great  confidence  and  with  delight,  expressed 
by  wagging  his  tail. 

"  That  is  a  Gordon  setter,"  said  Gantovski.  "  He  is  simple 
yet;  but  those  dogs  are  clever,  and  become  wonderfully 
attached." 

"  He  is  beautiful,  and  I  am  very  grateful  to  you,"  answered 
Marynia,  looking  at  the  shining  black  hair  and  the  yellow 
spots  over  the  eyes  of  the  dog. 

"Too  friendly,"  added  Plavitski,  covering  his  knees  with 
a  napkin. 

"  In  the  field,  too,  they  are  better  than  common  setters." 

"  Do  you  hunt  ? "  asked  Pan  Stauislav  of  the  young 
lady. 

'•'Xo;    I   have   never  had   any   desire   to   do   so.     And 


you 


9  " 


"Sometimes.     But  I  live  in  the  city." 

"Art  thou  much  in  society  ?  "  inquired  Plavitski. 

"  Almost  never.  My  visits  are  to  Pani  Emilia,  my  part- 
ner Bigiel,  and  Vaskovski,  my  former  professor,  an  oddity 
now,  —  those  are  all.  Of  course  I  go  sometimes  to  people 
with  whom  I  have  business." 

"  That  is  not  well,  my  boy.  A  young  man  should  have 
ind  preserve  good  social  relations,  especially  when  he  has  a 
tight  to  them.  If  a  man  has  to  force  his  way,  the  question 
IS  different ;  but  as  Polanyetski,  thou  hast  the  right  to  go 
anywhere.  I  have  the  same  story,  too,  with  Marynia.  The 
winter  before  last,  when  she  had  finished  her  eighteenth 
year,  I  took  her  to  Warsaw.  Thou  'It  understand  that  the 
trip  was  not  without  cost,  and  that  for  me  it  required  cer-. 
tain  sacrifices.  Well,  and  what  came  of  it  ?  She  sat  for 
whole  days  with  Pani  Emilia,  and  they  read  books.  She  is 
born  a  recluse,  and  will  remain  one.  Thou  and  she  might 
join  hands." 

"  Let  us  join  hands  ! "  cried  Pan  Stanislav,  joyously. 

"  I  cannot,  with  a  clear  conscience,"  answered  Marynia ; 


CillLDKEN  OF  THE  SOIL.  23 

"  for  it  was  not  altogether  as  papa  describes.  I  read  books 
with  Emilia,  it  is  true ;  but  I  was  much  in  society  with 
papa,  and  I  danced  enough  for  a  lifetime." 

"  You  have  no  fault  to  find  ?  " 

"  No  ;  but  I  am  not  yearning." 

"  Then  you  did  not  bring  away  memories,  it  seems  ?  " 

"  Evidently  there  remained  with  me  only  recollections, 
which  are  something  different." 

"I  do  not  understand  the  difference." 

"  Memory  is  a  magazine,  in  which  the  past  lies  stored 
away,  and  recollection  appears  when  we  go  to  the  magazine 
to  take  something." 

Here  Panna  Marynia  was  alarmed  somewhat  at  that 
special  daring  with  which  she  had  allowed  herself  this 
philosophical  deduction  as  to  the  difference  between  mem- 
ory and  recollection ;  therefore  she  blushed  rather  deeply. 

"Not  stupid,  and  pretty,''  thought  Pan  Stanislav;  aloud 
he  said,  "  That  would  not  have  come  to  my  head,  and  it  is 
so  appropriate." 

He  surveyed  her  with  eyes  full  of  sympathy.  She  was 
in  fact  very  pretty ;  for  she  was  laughing,  somewhat  con- 
fused by  the  praise,  and  also  delighted  sincerely  with  it. 
She  blushed  still  more  when  the  daring  young  man 
said, — 

"  To-morrow,  before  parting,  I  shall  beg  for  a  place,  — 
even  in  the  magazine." 

Put  he  said  this  with  such  joyousness  that  it  was  impos- 
sible to  be  angry  with  him ;  and  Marynia  answered,  not 
without  a  certain  coquetry,  — 

"Very  well;  and  I  ask  reciprocity." 

"  In  such  case,  I  should  have  to  go  so  often  to  the  magar 
zine  that  I  might  prefer  straightway  to  live  in  it." 

This  seemed  to  Marynia  somewhat  too  bold  on  such  short 
acquaintance ;   but  Plavitski  broke  in  now  and  said,  — 

"This  Stanislav  pleases  me.  I  prefer  him  to  Gantos, 
who  sits  like  a  misanthrope." 

"  Because  I  can  talk  only  of  what  may  be  taken  in  hand," 
answered  the  young  man,  with  a  certain  sadness. 

"Then  take  your  fork,  and  eat." 

Pan  Stanislav  laughed.  Marynia  did  not  laugh :  she 
was  sorry  for  Gantovski ;  therefore  she  turned  the  conversa- 
tion to  things  which  were  tangible. 

"  She  is  either  a  coquette,  or  has  a  good  heart,"  thought 
Pan  Stanislav  again. 


24  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

But  Pan  Plavitski,  who  recalled  evidently  his  last  winter 
visit  in  Warsaw,  continued,  "  Tell  me,  Stas,  dost  thou 
know  Bukatski  ?  " 

"Of  course.  By  the  way,  he  is  a  nearer  relative  to  me 
than  to  uncle." 

"  We  are  related  to  the  whole  world,  —  to  the  whole  world 
literally.  Bukatski  was  Marynia's  most  devoted  dancer. 
He  danced  with  her  at  all  the  parties." 

Pan  Stanislav  began  to  laugh  again :  "  And  for  all  his 
reward  he  went  to  the  magazine,  to  the  dust-bin.  But  at 
least  it  is  not  necessary  to  dust  him,  for  he  is  as  careful 
of  his  person  as  uncle,  for  instance.  He  is  the  greatest 
dandy  in  Warsaw.  What  does  he  do  ?  He  is  manager  of 
fresh  air,  which  means  that  when  there  is  fair  weather 
he  walks  out  or  rides.  Besides,  he  is  an  original,  who  has 
peculiar  little  closets  in  his  brain.  He  observes  various 
things  of  such  kind  as  no  other  would  notice.  Once,  after 
his  return  from  Venice,  I  met  him  and  asked  what  he  had 
seen  thei-e.  '  I  saw,'  said  he,  *  while  on  the  Riva  dei 
Schiavoni,  half  an  egg-shell  and  half  a  lemon-rind  floating : 
they  met,  they  struck,  they  were  driven  apart,  the}'  came 
together;  at  last,  paf !  the  half  lemon  fell  into  the  half  egg- 
shell, and  away  they  went  sailing  together.  In  this  see  the 
meaning  of  harmony.'  Such  is  Bukatski's  occupation, 
though  he  knows  much,  and  in  art,  for  instance,  he  is  an 
authority." 

"  But  they  say  that  he  is  very  capable." 

"  Perhaps  he  is,  but  capable  of  nothing.  He  eats  bread, 
and  that  is  the  end  of  his  service.  If  at  least  he  were 
joyous,  but  at  bottom  he  is  melancholy.  I  forgot  to  say 
that  besides  he  is  in  love  with  Pani  Emilia." 

"Does  Emilia  receive  many  people  ?  "  inquired  Marynia. 

"No.  Vaskovski,  Bukatski,  and  Mashko,  an  advocate, 
the  man  who  buys  and  sells  estates,  are  her  only  visitors. 

"  Of  course  she  cannot  receive  many  people  ;  she  has  to 
give  much  time  to  Litka." 

"  Dear  little  girl,"  said  Pan  Stanislav,  "  may  God  grant  at 
least  that  Reichenhall  may  help  her." 

And  his  joyous  countenance  was  covered  in  one  moment 
with  genuine  sadness.  Marynia  looked  at  him  with  eyes 
full  of  sympathy,  and  in  her  turn  thought  a  second  time, 
"  Still  he  must  be  kind  really." 

But  Plavitski  began  to  talk  as  if  to  himself.  "  Mashko, 
Mashko  —  he  too  was  circling  about  Marynia.     But  she 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  25 

did  not  like  him.  As  to  estates,  the  price  now  is  such  that 
God  pity  us." 

"  Mashko  is  the  man  who  declares  that  under  such  con- 
ditions it  is  well  to  buy  them." 

Dinner  came  to  an  end,  and  they  passed  into  the  drawing- 
room  for  coffee ;  while  at  coffee  Pan  Plavitski,  as  his  wont 
was  in  moments  of  good-humor,  began  to  make  a  butt  of 
Gantovski.  The  young  man  endured  patiently,  out  of  regard 
for  Marynia,  but  with  a  mien  that  seemed  to  say,  "  Ei !  but 
for  her,  I  would  shake  all  the  bones  out  of  thee."  After 
coffee  Marynia  sat  down  at  the  piano,  while  her  father  was 
occupied  with  patience.  She  played  not  particularly  well, 
but  her  clear  and  calm  face  was  outlined  pleasantly  over 
the  music-board.  About  five  Pan  Plavitski  looked  at  the 
clock  and  said,  — 

"  The  Yamishes  are  not  coming." 

''They  will  come  yet,"  answered  Marynia. 

But  from  that  moment  on  he  looked  continually  at  the 
clock,  and  announced  every  moment  that  the  Yamishes 
would  not  come.  At  last,  about  six,  he  said  with  a  sepul- 
chral voice,  — 

"  Some  misfortune  must  have  happened." 

Pan  Stanislav  at  that  moment  was  near  Marynia,  who  in 
an  undertone  said,  — 

"  Here  is  a  trouble !  Nothing  has  happened,  of  course ; 
but  papa  will  be  in  bad  humor  till  supper." 

At  first  Pan  Stanislav  wished  to  answer  that  to  make 
up  he  would  be  in  good-humor  to-morrow  after  sleeping; 
but,  seeing  genuine  anxiety  on  the  young  lady's  face,  he 
answered, — 

"  As  I  remember,  it  is  not  very  far ;  send  some  one  to 
inquire  what  has  happened." 

"  Why  not  send  some  one  over  there,  papa  ?  " 

But  he  answered  with  vexation,  "  Too  much  kindness ;  I 
Avill  go  myself ;  "  and  ringing  for  a  servant,  he  ordered  the 
horses,  then  stopping  for  a  moment  he  said,  — 

"  Enfin,  anything  may  happen  in  the  country  ;  some  per- 
son might  come  and  find  ray  daughter  alone.  This  is  not 
a  city.  Besides,  you  are  relatives.  Thou,  Gantovski,  may 
be  necessary  for  me,  so  have  the  kindness  to  come  with 
me." 

An  expression  of  the  greatest  unwillingness  and  dissatis- 
faction was  evident  on  the  young  man's  face.  He  stretched 
his  hand  to  his  yellow  hair  and  said,  — 


26  CHILDREN  OF  TUE   SOIL. 

"  Drawn  up  at  the  pond  is  a  boat,  which  the  gardener 
could  not  launch.  I  promised  Panna  Marynia  to  launch  it ; 
but  last  Sunday  she  would  not  let  me,  for  rain  was  pouring, 
as  if  from  a  bucket." 

"  Then  run  and  try.  It  is  thirty  yards  to  the  pond ;  thou 
wilt  be  back  in  two  minutes." 

Gantovski  went  to  the  garden  in  spite  of  himself.  Pla- 
vitski,  without  noticing  his  daughter  or  Pan  Stanislav,  re- 
peated as  he  walked  through  the  room,  — 

"  jSTeuralgia  in  the  head ;  I  would  bet  that  it  is  neuralgia 
in  the  head  ;  Gantovski  in  case  of  need  could  gallop  for  the 
doctor.  That  old  mope,  that  councillor  without  a  council, 
would  not  send  for  him  surely,"  And  needing  evidently  to 
pour  out  his  ill  humor  on  some  one,  he  added,  turning 
to  Pan  Stanislav,  "  Thou  'It  not  believe  what  a  booby  that 
man  is," 

"  Who  ?  " 

"  Yamish." 

"  But,  papa  !  "  interrupted  Marynia. 

Plavitski  did  not  let  her  finish,  however,  and  said  with 
increasing  ill  humor,  "  It  does  not  please  thee,  I  know, 
that  she  shows  me  a  little  friendship  and  attention.  Read 
Pan  Yamish's  articles  on  agriculture,  do  him  homage,  raise 
statues  to  him  ;  but  let  me  have  my  sympathies." 

Here  Pan  Stanislav  might  admire  the  real  sweetness  of 
Marynia,  who,  instead  of  being  impatient,  ran  to  her  father, 
and  putting  her  forehead  under  his  blackened  mustaches, 
said,  — 

"They  will  bring  the  horses  right  away,  right  away, 
right  away  !  Maybe  I  ought  to  go  ;  but  let  ugly  father  not 
be  angry,  for  he  will  hurt  himself." 

Plavitski,  who  was  really  much  attached  to  his  daughter, 
kissed  her  on  the  forehead  and  said,  "  I  know  thou  hast  a 
good  heart.     But  what  is  Gantovski  doing  ?  " 

And  he  called  through  the  open  gate  of  the  garden 
to  the  young  man,  who  returned  soon,  wearied  out,  and 
said,  — 

"  There  is  water  in  the  boat,  and  it  is  drawn  up  too  far ; 
I  have  tried,  and  I  cannot — " 

"  Then  take  thy  cap  and  let 's  be  off,  for  I  hear  the  horses 
have  come." 

A  moment  later  the  young  people  were  alone, 

"  Papa  is  accustomed  to  society  a  little  more  elegant  than 
that  in  the  country,"  said  Marynia ;  "  therefore  he  likes 


CHILDREN   OF  THE   SOIL.  27 

Pani  Yamish,  but  Pan  Yaraisli  is  a  very  honorable  and 
sensible  man." 

"  1  saw  him  in  the  church ;  to  me  he  seemed  as  if 
crushed." 

"  Yes  ;  for  he  is  sickl-y,  and  besides  has  much  care." 

"  Like  you." 

"  No,  Pan  Yamish  manages  his  work  perfectly  ;  besides, 
he  writes  much  on  agriculture.  He  is  really  the  light  of 
these  parts.  Such  a  worthy  man !  She  too  is  a  good 
woman,  onl}'^  to  me  she  seems  rather  pretentious." 

"  An  ex-beauty." 

"Yes.  And  this  unbroken  country  life,  through  which 
she  has  become  rather  rusty,  increases  her  oddness.  I 
think  that  in  cities  oddities  of  character  and  their  ridicu- 
lous sides  efface  one  another ;  but  in  the  country,  people 
turn  into  originals  more  easily,  they  grow  disused  to  society 
gradually,  a  certain  old-fashioned  way  is  preserved  in  inter- 
course, and  it  goes  to  excess.  .We  must  all  seem  rusty  to 
people  from  great  cities,  and  somewhat  ridiculous." 

"  Not  all,"  answered  Pan  Stanislav;  "you,  for  example." 

"  It  will  come  to  me  in  time,"  answered  Marynia,  with  a 
smile. 

■'Time  may  bring  changes  too." 

"With  us  there  is  so  little  change,  and  that  most  fre- 
quently for  the  worse." 

"But  in  the  lives  of  young  ladies  in  general  changes  are 
expected." 

"  I  should  wish  first  that  papa  and  I  might  come  to  an 
agreement  about  Kremen." 

"  Then  your  father  and  Kremen  are  the  main,  the  only 
objects  in  life  for  you  ?  " 

"  True.  But  I  can  help  little,  since  I  know  little  of  any- 
thing." 

"'  Your  father,  Kremen,  and  nothing  more,"  repeated  Pan 
Stanislav. 

A  moment  of  silence  came,  after  which  Marynia  asked 
Pan  Stanislav  if  he  would  go  to  the  garden.  They  went, 
and  soon  found  themselves  at  the  edge  of  the  pond.  Pan 
Stanislav,  who,  while  abroad,  had  been  a  member  of  various 
sporting  clubs,  ]nished  to  the  water's  edge  the  boat,  which 
Gantovski  could  not  manage;  but  it  turned  out  that  the 
boat  was  leaky,  and  that  they  could  not  row  in  it. 

"This  is  a  case  of  my  management,"  said  Marynia, 
laughing:  "there  is  a  leak  everywhere.     And  I  know  not 


28  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

how  to  find  an  excuse,  since  the  pond  and  the  garden 
belong  to  me  only.  But  before  it  is  launched  I  will  have 
the  boat  mended." 

"  As  I  live,  it  is  the  same  boat  in  which  I  was  forbidden 
to  sail  when  a  boy." 

"  Quite  possibly.  Have  you  not  noticed  that  things 
change  less  by  far,  and  last  longer  than  people?  At  times 
it  is  sad  to  think  of  this." 

"  Let  us  hope  to  last  longer  than  this  moss-covered  boat, 
which  is  as  water-soaked  as  a  sponge.  If  this  is  the  boat 
of  my  childhood,  I  have  no  luck  with  it.  In  old  times  I 
was  not  permitted  to  sail  in  it,  and  now  I  have  hurt  my 
hand  with  some  rusty  nail." 

Saying  this,  he  drew  out  his  handkerchief  and  began  to 
wind  it  around  a  finger  of  his  right  hand,  with  his  left 
hand,  but  so  awkwardly  that  Marynia  said, — 

"  You  cannot  manage  it ;  you  need  help  ; "  and  she  began  to 
bind  up  his  hand,  which  he  twisted  a  little  so  as  to  increase 
the  difficulty  of  her  task,  since  it  was  pleasant  for  him  to 
feel  her  delicate  fingers  touching  his.  She  saw  that  he  was 
hindering  her,  and  glanced  at  him  ;  but  the  moment  their 
eyes  met,  she  understood  the  reason,  and,  blushing,  bent 
down  as  if  tying  more  carefully.  Pan  Stanislav  felt  her 
near  him,  he  felt  the  warmth  coming  from  her,  and  his 
heart  beat  more  quickly. 

"  I  have  wonderfully  pleasant  memories,"  said  he,  "  of 
my  former  vacations  here ;  but  this  time  I  shall  take  away 
still  pleasanter  ones.  You  are  very  kind,  and  besides  ex- 
actly like  some  flower  in  this  Kremen.  On  my  word,  I  do 
not  exaggerate." 

Marynia  understood  that  the  young  man  said  that 
sincerely,  a  little  too  daringly  perhaps,  but  more  through 
innate  vivacity  than  because  they  were  alone  ;  she  was  not 
offended,  therefore,  but  she  began  to  make  playful  threats 
with  her  pleasant  low  voice,  — 

"  I  beg  you  not  to  say  pretty  things  to  me  ;  if  you  do,  I 
shall  bind  your  hand  badly,  and  then  run  away." 

"  You  may  bind  the  hand  badly,  but  stay.  The  evening 
is  so  beautiful." 

Marynia  finished  her  work  with  the  handkerchief,  and 
they  walked  farther.  The  evening  was  really  beautiful. 
The  sun  was  setting;  the  pond,  not  wrinkled  with  a  breath 
of  wind,  shone  like  fire  and  gold.  In  the  distance,  beyond 
the  water,  the  alders  were  dozing  quietly ;  the  nearer  trees 


CHILDREN  OF  THE   SOIL.  29 

were  outlined  with  wonderful  distinctness  in  the  ruddy  air. 
In  the  yard  beyond  the  house,  storks  were  chattering. 

"  Kremen  is  charming,  very  charming ! "  said  Pan 
Stanislav. 

"  Very,"  answered  Marynia. 

"  I  understand  your  attachment  to  this  place.  Besides, 
when  one  puts  labor  into  anything,  one  is  attached  to  it 
still  more.  I  understand  too  that  in  the  country  it  is  possible 
to  have  pleasant  moments  like  this  ;  but,  besides,  it  is 
agreeable  here.  In  the  city  weariness  seizes  men  some- 
times, especially  those  who,  like  me,  are  plunged  to  their 
ears  in  accounts,  and  who,  besides,  are  alone.  Pan  Bigiel, 
my  partner,  has  a  wife,  he  has  children,  —  that  is  pleasant. 
But  how  is  it  with  me  ?  I  say  to  myself  often :  I  am  at 
work,  but  what  do  I  get  for  it  ?  Grant  that  I  shall  have  a 
little  money,  but  what  then  ?  —  nothing.  To-morrow  ever 
the  same  as  to-day :  Work  and  work.  You  know,  Panna 
Plavitski,  when  a  man  devotes  himself  to  something,  when 
he  moves  with  the  impetus  of  making  money,  for  example, 
money  seems  to  him  an  object.  But  moments  come  in 
which  I  think  that  Vaskovski,  my  original,  is  right,  and 
that  no  one  whose  name  ends  in  ski  or  vich  can  ever  put  his 
whole  soul  into  such  an  object  and  rest  in  it  exclusively. 
He  declares  that  there  is  in  us  yet  the  fresh  memory 
of  a  previous  existence,  and  that  in  general  the  Slavs 
have  a  separate  mission.  He  is  a  great  original,  a  philoso- 
pher, and  a  mystic.  I  argue  with  him,  and  make  money 
as  I  can ;  but  now,  for  example,  when  I  am  walking  with 
you  in  this  garden,  it  seems  to  me  in  truth  that  he  is 
right." 

For  a  time  they  walked  on  without  speaking.  The  light 
became  ruddier  every  instant,  and  their  faces  were  sunk,  as 
it  were,  in  that  gleam.  Friendly,  reciprocal  feelings  rose 
in  them  each  moment.  They  felt  pleasant  and  calm  in  each 
other's  society.  Of  this  Pan  Stanislav  was  sensible  seem- 
ingly, for,  after  a  while,  he  remarked,  — 

"  That  is  true,  too,  which  Pani  Emilia  told  me.  She  said 
that  one  has  more  confidence,  and  feels  nearer  to  you  in  an 
hour  than  to  another  in  a  month.  I  have  verified  this.  It 
seems  to  me  that  I  have  known  you  for  a  long  time.  I 
think  that  only  persons  unusually  kind  can  produce  this 
impression." 

"Emilia  loves  me  much,"  answered  jNIarynia,  with  sim- 
plicity ;  "  that  is  why  she  praises  me.    Even  if  what  she 


30  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

says  were  true,  I  will  add  that  I  have  not  the  power  to  be 
such  with  all  persons." 

''  You  made  on  me,  yesterday,  another  impression,  indeed ; 
but  you  were  tired  then  and  drowsy." 

"I  was,  in  some  degree." 

'•■  And  why  did  you  not  go  to  bed  ?  The  servants  might 
have  made  tea  for  me,  or  I  might  have  done  without  it." 

"  No ;  we  are  not  so  inhospitable  as  that.  Papa  said  that 
one  of  us  should  receive  you.  I  was  afraid  that  he  would 
wait  himself  for  you,  and  that  would  have  injured  him  ;  so 
I  preferred  to  take  his  place." 

"  In  that  regard  thou  mightst  have  been  at  ease,"  thought 
Pan  Stanislav ;  "  but  thou  art  an  honest  maiden  to  defend 
the  old  egotist."  Then  he  said,  "I  beg  your  pardon  for 
having  begun  to  speak  of  business  at  once.  That  is  a  mer- 
cantile habit.  But  I  reproached  mj'self  afterward.  *  Thou 
art  this  and  that  kind  of  man/  thought  I ;  and  with  shame 
do  I  beg  your  pardon." 

"  There  is  no  cause  for  pardon,  since  there  is  no  fault. 
They  told  you  that  I  occupy  myself  with  everything ;  hence 
you  turned  to  me." 

Twilight  spread  more  deeply  by  degrees.  After  a  certain 
time  they  returned  to  the  house,  and,  as  the  evening  was 
beautiful,  they  sat  down  on  the  garden  veranda.  Pan 
Stanislav  entered  the  drawing-room  for  a  moment,  returned 
with  a  footstool,  and,  bending  down,  pushed  it  under  Ma- 
rynia's  feet. 

"  I  thank  you,  I  thank  you  much,"  said  she,  inclining, 
and  taking  her  skirt  with  her  hand ;  "  how  kind  of  you  !  I 
thank  you  much." 

"I  am  inattentive  by  nature,"  said  he;  "but  do  you 
know  who  taught  me  a  little  carefulness  ?  Litka,  There 
is  need  of  care  with  her ;  and  Pani  Emilia  has  to  remember 
this." 

"She  remembers  it,"  answered  Marynia,  "and  we  will 
all  help  her.  If  she  had  not  gone  to  Reichenhall,  I  should 
have  invited  her  here." 

"And  I  should  have  followed  Litka  without  invitation." 

"  Then  I  beg  you  in  papa's  name,  once  and  for  all." 

"Do  not  say  that  lightly,  for  I  am  ready  to  abuse  your 
kindness.  For  me  it  is  very  pleasant  here ;  and  as  often  as 
I  feel  out  of  sorts  in  Warsaw,  I  '11  take  refuge  in  Kremen." 

Pan  Stanislav  knew  this  time  that  his  words  were  in- 
tended to  bring  them  nearer,  to  establish  sympathy  betweeu 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  31 

them  ;  and  he  spoke  with  design,  and  sincerel}'.  While 
speaking,  he  looked  on  that  mild  young  face,  which,  in  the 
light  of  the  setting  sun,  seemed  calmer  than  usual.  Marynia 
raised  to  him  her  blue  eyes,  in  which  was  the  question, 
"  Art  speaking  by  chance,  or  of  purpose  ?  "  and  she  an- 
swered in  a  somewhat  lower  voice,  — 

"  Do  so." 

And  both  were  silent,  feeling  that  really  a  connection 
between  them  was  beginning. 

"  I  am  astonished  that  papa  is  not  returning,"  said  she,  at 
last. 

The  sun  had  gone  down ;  in  the  ruddy  gloaming,  an  owl 
had  begun  to  circle  about  in  slow  flight,  and  frogs  were 
croaking  in  the  pond. 

Fan  Stanislav  made  no  answer  to  the  young  lady's  re- 
mark, but  said,  as  if  sunk  in  his  own  thoughts :  "  I  do  not 
analyze  life ;  I  have  no  time.  When  I  enjoy  myself,  —  as  at 
this  moment,  for  instance, —  I  feel  that  I  enjoy  myself  ;  when 
I  suffer,  I  suffer,  —  that  is  all.  But  live  or  six  years  ago  it 
was  different.  A  whole  party  of  us  used  to  meet  for  dis- 
cussions on  the  meaning  of  life,  —  a  number  of  scholars,  and 
one  writei',  rather  well  known  in  Belgium  at  present.  We 
put  to  ourselves  these  questions  :  Whither  are  we  going  ? 
What  sense  has  everything,  what  value,  what  end  ?  We 
read  the  pessimists,  and  lost  ourselves  in  various  baseless 
inquiries,  like  one  of  my  acquaintances,  an  assistant  in  the 
chair  of  astronomy,  who,  when  he  began  to  lose  himself  in 
interplanetary  spaces,  lost  his  reason  ;  and,  after  that,  it 
seemed  to  him  that  his  head  was  moving  in  a  parabola 
through  infinity.  Afterward  he  recovered,  and  became  a 
priest.  We,  in  like  manner,  could  come  to  nothing,  rest  on 
nothing,  —  just  like  birds  flying  over  the  sea  without  a 
place  to  light  on.  But  at  last  I  saw  two  things  :  first,  that 
my  Belgians  were  taking  all  this  to  heart  less  than  I, — we  are 
more  naive  ;  second,  that  my  desire  for  labor  would  be 
injured,  and  that  I  should  become  an  incompetent.  I 
seized  myself,  then,  by  the  ears,  and  began  to  color  cottons 
with  all  my  might.  After  that,  I  said  in  my  mind  :  Life  is 
among  the  rights  of  nature ;  whether  wise  or  foolish,  never 
mind,  it  is  a  right.  We  must  live,  then ;  hence  it  is  neces- 
sary to  get  from  life  what  is  possible.  And  I  wish  to  get 
something.  Vaskovski  says,  it  is  true,  that  we  Slavs  are 
not  able  to  stop  there  ;  but  that  is  mere  talk.  That  we 
cannot  be  satisfied  with  money  alone,  we  will  admit.     But 


32  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

I  said  to  myself,  besides  money  there  are  two  things  :  peace 
and  —  do  you  know  what,  Panna  Flavitski  ?  —  woman. 
For  a  man  should  have  some  one  with  whom  to  share  what 
he  has.  Later,  there  must  be  death.  Granted.  But  where 
death  begins,  man's  wit  ends.  'That  is  not  my  business,' 
as  the  English  say.  Meanwhile,  it  is  needful  to  have  some 
one  to  whom  a  man  can  give  that  which  he  has  or  acquires, 
whether  money  or  service  or  fame.  If  they  are  diamonds 
on  the  moon,  it  is  all  the  same,  for  there  is  no  one  to  learn 
what  their  value  is.  So  a  man  must  have  some  one  to  know 
him.  And  I  think  to  myself,  who  will  know  me,  if  not  a 
woman,  if  she  is  only  wonderfully  good  and  wonderfully 
reliable,  greatly  mine  and  greatly  beloved  ?  This  is  all  that 
it  is  possible  to  desire ;  for  from  this  comes  repose,  and 
repose  is  the  one  thing  that  has  sense.  I  say  this,  not  as  a 
poet,  but  as  a  practical  man  and  a  merchant.  To  have  near 
me  a  dear  one,  that  is  an  object.  And  let  come  then  what 
may.     Here  you  have  my  philosophy." 

Pan  Stanislav  insisted  that  he  was  speaking  like  a  mer- 
chant; but  he  spoke  like  a  dreamei',  for  that  summer  even- 
ing had  acted  on  him,  as  had  also  the  presence  of  that 
youthful  woman,  who  in  so  many  regards  answered  to  the 
views  announced  a  moment  earlier.  This  must  have  come 
to  Pan  Stanislav's  head,  for,  turning  directly  to  her,  he 
said,  — 

**  This  is  my  thought,  but  I  do  not  talk  of  it  before  people 
usually.  I  was  brought  to  this  somehow  to-day;  for  I 
repeat  that  Pani  Emilia  is  right.  She  says  that  one 
becomes  more  intimate  with  you  in  a  day  than  with  others 
in  a  year.  You  must  be  fabulously  kind.  I  should  have 
committed  a  folly  if  I  had  not  come  to  Kremen ;  and  I 
shall  come  as  often  as  you  permit  me." 

'•'  Come,  —  often." 

"I  thank  you."  He  extended  his  hand,  and  Marynia 
gave  him  hers,  as  if  in  sign  of  agreement. 

Oh,  how  he  pleased  her  with  his  sincere,  manly  face,  with 
his  dark  hair,  and  a  certain  vigor  in  his  whole  bearing  and 
in  his  animated  eyes  !  He  brought,  besides,  so  many  of 
those  inspirations  which  were  lacking  in  Kremen, — certain 
new  horizons,  running  out  far  beyond  the  pond  and  the 
alders  which  hemmed  in  the  horizon  at  Kremen.  They  had 
opened  in  one  day  as  many  roads  as  it  was  possible  to  open. 
They  sat  again  a  certain  time  in  silence,  and  their  minds 
wandered  on  farther  in  silence  as  hastily  as  they  had  during 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  8(J 

speech.     Marynia  pointed  at  last  to  the  light,  which  was  iu- 
creasing  behind  the  alders,  and  said,  "  The  moon." 

"  Aha !  the  moon,"  repeated  Pan  Stanislav. 

The  moon  was,  in  fact,  rising  slowly  from  behind  the 
alders,  ruddy,  and  as  large  as  a  wheel.  Now  the  dogs 
began  to  bark ;  a  carriage  rattled  on  the  other  side  of  the 
house  ;  and,  after  a  while,  Plavitski  appeared  in  the  draw- 
ing-room, into  which  lamps  had  been  brought.  Marynia 
went  in,  Fan  Stanislav  following. 

"Nothing  was  the  matter,"  said  Plavitski.  "Pani  Hro- 
metski  called.  Thinking  that  she  would  go  soon,  they  did 
not  let  us  know.  Yamish  is  a  trifle  ill,  but  is  going  to 
Warsaw  in  the  morning.   She  promised  to  come  to-morrow." 

"  Then  is  all  well  ?  "  asked  Marynia. 

"  Well ;  but  what  have  you  been  doing  here  ?  " 

"Listening  to  the  frogs,"  answered  Pan  Stanislav;  "and 
it  was  pleasant." 

"The  Lord  God  knows  why  He  made  frogs.  Though 
they  don't  let  me  sleep  at  night,  I  make  no  complaint. 
But,  Marynia,  let  the  tea  be  brought." 

Tea  was  waiting  already  in  another  room.  While  they 
were  drinking  it,  Plavitski  described  his  visit  at  the  Ya- 
mishes.  The  young  people  were  silent ;  but  from  time 
to  time  they  looked  at  each  other  with  eyes  full  of  light, 
and  at  parting  they  pressed  each  other's  hands  very 
warmly.  Marynia  felt  a  certain  heaviness  seizing  her,  as 
if  that  day  had  wearied  her;  but  it  was  a  wonderful  and 
pleasant  kind  of  weariness.  Afterward,  when  her  head  was 
resting  on  the  pillow,  she  did  not  think  that  the  day  follow- 
ing would  be  Monday,  that  a  new  week  of  common  toil 
would  begin ;  she  thought  only  of  Pan  Stanislav,  and  his 
words  were  sounding  in  her  ears :  "  Who  will  know  me, 
if  not  a  woman,  if  she  is  only  wonderfully  good  and  wonder- 
fully reliable,  greatly  mine  and  greatly  beloved  ?  " 
•  Pan  Stanislav,  on  his  part,  was  saying  to  himself,  while 
lighting  a  cigarette  in  bed,  "She  is  kind  and  shapely, 
charming ;  where  is  there  such  another  ?  " 


CHILDREN   OF  THE  SOIL. 


CHAPTER  III. 

But  the  following  day  was  a  gray  one,  and  Panna  Pla- 
vitski  woke  with  reproaches.  It  seemed  to  her  that,  the 
day  before,  she  had  let  herself  be  borne  away  on  some  cur- 
rent farther  than  was  proper,  and  that  she  had  been  simply 
coquetting  with  Pan  Stanislav.  She  was  penetrated  with 
special  dissatisfaction,  for  this  reason  principally :  that 
Pan  Stanislav  had  only  come  as  a  creditor.  She  had  for- 
gotten that  yesterday;  but  to-day  she  said  to  herself, 
"  Undoubtedly  it  will  come  to  his  head  that  I  wanted  to 
win  him,  or  to  soften  him  ; "  and  at  this  thought  the  blood 
flowed  to  her  cheeks  and  her  forehead.  She  had  an  honest 
nature  and  much  ambition,  which  revolted  at  every  idea 
that  she  might  be  suspected  of  calculation.  Believing  now 
in  the  possibility  of  such  a  suspicion,  she  felt  in  advance 
as  if  offended  by  Pan  Stanislav.  Withal,  there  was  one 
thought  which  was  bitter  beyond  every  expression :  she 
knew  that,  as  a  rule,  a  copper  could  not  overtake  a  copper 
in  the  treasury  of  Kremen ;  that  there  was  no  money  ;  and 
that  if,  in  view  of  the  proposed  parcelling  of  Magyerovka, 
there  were  hopes  of  having  some  in  future,  her  father 
would  make  evasions,  for  he-  considered  other  debts  more 
urgent  than  Pan  Stanislav's.  She  promised  herself,  it  is 
true,  to  do  all  in  her  power  to  see  him  paid  absolutely,  and 
before  others ;  but  she  knew  that  she  was  not  able  to  effect 
much.  Her  father  assisted  her  willingly  in  management; 
but  in  money  matters  he  had  his  own  way;  and  it  was 
rarely  that  he  regarded  her  opinion.  His  role  consisted 
really  in  evading  everything  by  all  means, — by  promises 
never  kept,  by  delays,  by  presenting  imaginary  calcula- 
tions and  hopes,  instead  of  reality.  As  the  collection  of 
debts  secured  by  mortgage  on  land  is  difficult  and  tedious, 
and  defence  may  be  kept  up  almost  as  long  as  one  wishes, 
Plavitski  held  on  to  Kremen,  thanks  to  his  system.  In  the 
end,  all  this  threatened  ruin  inexorable,  as  well  as  com- 
plete; but,  meanwhile, the  old  man  considered  himself  "the 
head  of  affairs,"  and  listened  the  more  unwillingly  to  the 
opinions  and  counsels  of  his  daughter,  since  he  suspected 


CHILDREN   OF  THE   SOIL.  35 

at  once  that  she  doubted  his  "head,"  This  offended  his 
self-esteem  to  the  utmost.  Mavynia  had  passed,  because  of 
this  "head"  and  its  methods,  through  more  than  one  hu- 
miliation. Her  country  life  was  only  an  apparent  ideal  of 
work  and  household  occupations.  There  was  wanting  to  it 
neither  bitterness  nor  pain ;  and  her  calm  countenance  indi- 
cated, not  only  the  sweetness  of  her  character,  but  its 
strength,  and  a  great  education  of  spirit.  The  humiliation 
which  threatened  her  this  time,  however,  seemed  harder  to 
bear  than  the  others. 

''At  least,  let  him  not  suspect  me,"  said  she  to  herself. 
But  how  could  she  prevent  his  suspicion  ?  Her  first 
thought  was  to  see  Pan  Stanislav  before  he  met  her  father, 
and  describe  the  whole  state  of  affairs  to  him  ;  treat  him 
as  a  man  in  w^hom  she  had  confidence.  It  occurred  to  her 
then  that  sucli  a  description  would  be  merely  a  prayer  for 
forbearance,  for  compassion  ;  and  hence  a  humiliation.  Were 
it  not  for  this  thought,  Marynia  would  have  sent  for  him. 
She,  as  a  woman  noting  keenly  every  quiver  of  her  own 
heart  and  the  hearts  of  others,  felt  half  consciously,  half 
instinctively,  that  between  her  and  that  young  man  some- 
thing was  foreshadowed ;  that  something  had  begun,  as  it 
were;  and,  above  all,  that  something  might  and  must  be 
inevitable  in  the  future,  if  she  chose  that  it  should  be ;  but, 
as  affairs  stood,  it  did  not  seem  to  her  that  she  could  choose. 
Only  one  thing  remained,  —  to  see  Pan  Stanislav,  and  efface 
by  her  demeanor  yesterday's  impressions;  to  break  the 
threads  which  had  been  fastened  between  them,  and  to 
give  him  full  freedom  of  action.  Such  a  method  seemed 
best  to  her. 

Learning  from  the  sei-vants  that  Pan  Stanislav  not  only 
had  risen,  but  had  drunk  tea  and  gone  out  to  the  road,  she 
decided  to  find  him.  This  was  not  difficult,  since  he  had 
returned  from  his  morning  walk,  and,  standing  at  the  side 
wall  of  the  entrance,  which  was  grown  over  with  wild  grape- 
vines, was  talking  with  those  two  dogs  which  had  fawned 
on  him  so  effusively  at  his  arrival.  He  did  not  see  her  at 
once;  and  ^Marynia,  standing  on  the  steps,  heard  him 
saying  to  the  dogs,  — 

"  These  big  dogs  take  pay  for  watching  the  house  ?  Ihey 
eat?  They  don't  bark  at  strangers,  but  fawn  on  them. 
Ei !   stupid  dogs,  lazv  fellows  !  " 

And  he  patted  their  white  heads.  Then,  seeing  her 
through  the  openings  of  the  grape-vines,  he  sprang  up  as 


36  CHILDREN  OF  THE   SOIL. 

quickly  as  if  thrown  from  a  sling,  and  stood  before  her,  glad 
and  bright-faced. 

"Good-morning.  I  have  been  talking  with  the  dogs- 
How  did  you  rest  ?  " 

"Thank  you."  And  she  extended  her  hand  to  him 
coldly ;  but  he  was  looking  at  her  with  eyes  in  which  was 
to  be  seen  most  clearly  how  great  and  deep  a  pleasure  the 
sight  of  her  caused  him.  And  he  pleased  poor  Marynia  not 
less;  he  simply  pleased  her  whole  soul.  Her  heart  was 
oppressed  with  regret  that  she  had  to  answer  his  cordial 
good-morning  so  ceremoniously  and  coldly. 

"Perhaps  yon  were  going  out  to  look  after  affairs?  In 
that  case,  if  you  permit,  I  will  go  with  you.  I  must  return 
to  the  city  to-day  ;  hence  one  moment  more  in  your  com- 
pany will  be  agreeable.  God  knows  if  I  could  I  would 
remain  longer.     But  now  I  know  the  road  to  Kremen." 

"We  beg  you  to  come,  whenever  time  may  permit." 

Pan  Stanislav  noticed  now  the  coolness  of  her  words,  of 
her  face ;  and  began  to  look  at  her  with  astonishment. 
Eut  if  Marynia  thought  that  he  would  do  as  people  do 
usually,  —  accommodate  himself  to  her  tone  readily  and  in 
silence,  —  she  was  mistaken.  Pan  Stanislav  was  too  viva- 
cious and  daring  not  to  seek  at  once  for  the  cause ;  so, 
looking  her  steadfastly  in  the  eye,  he  said,  — 

"  Something  is  troubling  you." 

Marynia  was  confused. 

"You  are  mistaken,"  replied  she. 

"  I  see  well ;  and  you  know  that  I  am  not  mistaken. 
You  act  toward  me  as  you  did  the  first  evening.  But  then 
I  made  a  blunder :  I  began  to  speak  of  money  at  a  wrong 
time.  Yesterday  I  begged  your  pardon,  and  it  was  pleas- 
ant,—  how  pleasant!  To-day,  again,  it  is  different.  Tell 
me  why  ! " 

Not  the  most  adroit  diplomacy  could  have  beaten  ^Fa- 
rynia  from  her  path.  It  seemed  to  her  that  she  could  chill 
him  and  keep  him  at  a  distance  by  this  demeanor ;  but  he, 
by  inquiring  so  directly,  rather  brought  himself  nearer,  and 
he  continued  to  speak  in  the  tone  of  a  man  on  whom  an 
injustice  had  been  wrought :  — 

"Tell  me  what  is  the  matter;  tell  me  !  Your  father  said 
I  was  to  be  a  guest  yesterday,  and  a  creditor  to-day.  But 
that  is  fol —  that  is  nothing !  I  do  not  understand  such 
distinctions;  and  I  shall  never  be  your  creditor,  rather 
your  debtor.     For  I  am  already  indebted  to  you,  and  grate- 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  37 

ful  for  yesterday's  kindness ;  and  God  knows  how  much  I 
wish  to  be  indebted  to  you  always." 

He  looked  into  her  eyes  again,  observing  carefully 
whether  there  would  not  appear  in  them  yesterday's  smile ; 
but  Marynia,  whose  heart  was  oppi-essed  more  and  more, 
went  on  by  the  way  which  she  had  chosen :  first,  because 
she  had  chosen  it;  an<l  second,  lest  by  acknowledging  that 
to-day  she  was  different,  she  might  be  forced  to  explain 
why  she  was  so. 

"I  assure  you,"  said  she,  at  last,  with  a  certain  effort, 
"  that  either  you  were  mistaken  yesterday,  or  you  are  mis- 
taken to-day.  I  am  always  the  same,  and  it  will  always  be 
agreeable  to  me  if  you  bear  away  pleasant  memories." 

The  words  were  polite,  but  uttered  by  a  young  woman  so 
unlike  her  of  yesterday  that  on  Pan  Stanislav's  face 
impatience  and  anger  began  to  appear. 

"If  it  is  important  for  you  that  I  should  feign  to  believe 
this,  let  it  be  as  you  wish.  I  shall  go  away,  however,  with 
the  conviction  that  in  the  country  Monday  is  very  different 
from  Sunday." 

These  words  touched  Marynia ;  for  from  them  it  seemed 
as  if  Pan  Stanislav  had  assumed  certain  rights  by  reason  of 
her  conduct  with  him  yesterday.  But  she  answered  rather 
with  sadness  than  with  anger,  — 

«  How  can  I  help  that  ?  " 

And  after  a  while  she  went  away,  saying  that  she  had  to 
go  and  wish  good-day  to  her  father.  Pan  Stanislav  remained 
alone.  He  drove  away  the  dogs,  which  had  tried  to  fawn 
on  him  anew,  and  began  to  be  angry. 

"What  does  this  mean  ?  "  asked  he  in  his  mind.  "Yes- 
terday, kind ;  to-day,  surly,  — altogether  a  dift'erent  woman. 
How  stupid  all  this  is,  and  useless  !  Yesterday,  a  relative ; 
to-day,  a  creditor !  What  is  that  to  her  ?  Why  does  she 
treat  me  like  a  dog  ?  Have  I  robbed  any  one  ?  She  knew 
yesterday,  too,  wliy  I  came.  Very  well!  If  you  want  to 
have  me  as  a  creditor  —  not  Polanyetski  —  all  right.  May 
thunderbolts  crush  the  whole  business  !  " 

Meanwhile  Marynia  ran  into  her  father's  chamber.  Pla- 
vitski  had  risen,  and  was  sitting,  attired  in  his  dressing- 
gown,  before  a  desk  covered  with  papers.  For  a  while  he 
turned  to  answer  the  good-day  of  his  daughter,  then  occu- 
pied himself  again  with  reading  the  papers. 

"Papa,"  said  Marynia,  "I  have  come  to  speak  of  Pan 
Stanislav.     Does  papa  —  " 


38  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

But  he  interrupted  her  without  ceasing  to  look  at  the 
papers,  — 

''  I  will  bend  thy  Pan  Stanislav  in  my  hand  like  wax." 

"I  doubt  if  that  will  be  easy.  Finally,  1  should  wish 
that  he  were  paid  before  others,  even  with  the  greatest  loss 
to  us." 

Plavitski,  turning  from  the  desk,  gazed  at  her,  and  asked 
coolly,  — 

"  Is  this,  I  pray,  a  guardianship  over  him,  or  over  me  ?  " 

"  It  is  a  question  of  our  honor." 

"  In  which,  as  thou  thinkest,  I  need  thy  assistance  ?  " 

"  No,  papa ;  but  —  " 

"What  pathetic  day  has  come  on  us?  What  is  the 
matter  with  thee  ?  " 

"  I  merely  beg,  papa,  by  all  —  " 

"And  I  beg  thee  also  to  leave  me.  Thou  hast  set  me 
aside  from  the  land  management.  I  yielded ;  for,  during 
the  couple  of  years  that  remain  to  me  in  life,  I  have  no 
wish  to  be  quarrelling  with  my  own  child.  But  leave  me 
even  this  corner  in  the  house,  —  even  this  one  room,  —  and 
permit  me  to  transact  such  affairs  as  it  is  possible  to 
transact  here." 

"  Dear  papa,  I  only  beg  —  " 

"  That  I  should  move  out  into  a  cottage,  which,  for  the 
fourth  time,  thou  art  choosing  for  me  ?  " 

Evidently  the  old  man,  in  speaking  of  the  "pathetic 
day,"  wished  merely  that  no  one  should  divide  this  mo- 
nopoly with  him.  He  rose  now,  in  his  Persian  dressing- 
gown,  like  King  Lear,  and  grasped  at  the  arm  of  his  chair ; 
thus  giving  his  heartless  daughter  to  understand  that,  if  he 
had  not  done  this,  he  should  have  fallen  his  whole  length 
on  the  floor,  stricken  down  by  her  cruelty.  But  tears  came 
to  her  eyes,  and  a  bitter  feeling  of  her  own  helplessness 
flowed  to  her  heart.  For  a  while  she  stood  in  silence, 
struggling  with  sorrow  and  a  wish  to  cry ;  then  she  said 
quietly,  "  I  beg  pardon  of  papa,"  and  went  out  of  the 
room. 

A  quarter  of  an  hour  later,  Pan  Stanislav  entered,  at  the 
request  of  Plavitski,  but  ill-humored,  irritated  through 
striving  to  master  himself. 

Plavitski,  after  he  had  greeted  his  visitor,  seated  him  at 
his  side  in  an  armchair  prepared  previously,  and,  putting 
his  palm  on  the  young  man's  knee,  said,  — 

"Stas,  but  thou  wilt  not  burn  this  house  ?  Thou  wilt  not 


CHILDREN   OF  THE  SOIL.  39 

kill  me,  who  opened  my  arms  to  thee  as  a  relative ;  thou 
wilt  not  make  my  child  an  orphan  ?  " 

"No,"  answered  Pan  Stanislav;  "I  will  not  burn  the 
house,  I  will  not  cut  uncle's  throat,  and  I  will  not  make  any 
child  an  orphan.  I  beg  uncle  not  to  talk  in  this  manner, 
for  it  leads  to  nothing,  and  to  me  it  is  unendurable." 

"  Very  well,"  said  Plavitski,  somewhat  offended,  however, 
that  his  style  and  manner  of  expression  had  found  such 
slight  recognition ;  "  but  remember  that  thou  didst  come 
to  me  and  to  this  house  when  thou  wert  still  a  child." 

"  I  came  because  my  mother  came ;  and  my  mother, 
after  the  death  of  Aunt  Helen,  came  because  uncle  did  not 
pay  interest.  All  this  is  neither  here  nor  there.  The  money 
rests  on  a  mortgage  of  twenty-one  years.  With  the  unpaid 
interest,  it  amounts  to  about  twenty-four  thousand  rubles. 
For  the  sake  of  round  numbers,  let  it  be  twenty  thousand ; 
but  I  must  have  those  twenty,  since  I  came  for  them." 

Plavitski  inclined  his  head  with  resignation.  "Thou 
didst  come  for  that.  True.  But  why  wert  thou  so  dif- 
ferent yesterday,  Stas  ?  " 

Pan  Stanislav,  who  half  an  hour  earlier  had  put  that 
same  question  to  Marynia,  just  sprang  up  in  his  chair,  but 
restrained  himself  and  said,  — 

"  I  beg  you  to  come  to  business." 

"  I  do  not  draw  back  before  business ;  only  permit  me  to 
say  a  couple  of  words  first,  and  do  not  interrupt  me.  Thou 
hast  said  that  I  have  not  paid  the  interest.  True.  But 
knowest  thou  Avhy  ?  Thy  mother  did  not  give  me  all  her 
property,  and  could  not  without  permission  of  a  family  coun- 
cil. Perhaps  it  was  worse  for  you  that  the  permission  was 
not  given,  but  never  mind.  When  I  took  those  few  thousand 
rubles,  I  said  to  myself:  The  woman  is  alone  in  the  world 
with  one  child ;  it  is  unknown  how  she  will  manage,  un- 
known what  may  happen.  Let  the  money  which  she  has 
with  me  be  her  iron  foundation ;  let  it  increase,  so  that 
at  a  given  moment  she  may  have  something  for  her  hands 
to  seize  hold  on.  And  since  then  I  have  been  in  some 
fashion  thy  savings  bank.  Thy  mother  gave  me  twelve 
thousand  rubles  ;  to-day  thou  hast  in  my  hands  almost 
twenty-four  thousand.  That  is  the  result.  And  wilt  thou 
repay  me  now  with  ingratitude  ?  " 

"  Beloved  uncle,"  answered  Pan  Stanislav,  "  do  not  take 
me,  I  pray,  for  a  greater  dunce  than  I  am,  nor  for  a  mad- 
man.   I  say  simply  that  I  am  not  caught  with  such  chaff;  it 


40  CHILDKEN  OF  THE   SOIL. 

is  too  coarse.  Uncle  says  that  I  have  twenty-four  thou- 
sand rubles ;  where  are  they  ?  I  am  asking  for  them,  with- 
out talk,  and  moreover  such  talk." 

*'  But  be  patient,  I  pray  thee,  and  restrain  thyself,  even 
for  this  reason,  that  I  am  older,"  answered  Plavitski,  of' 
fended  and  with  dignity. 

"  I  have  a  partner,  who  in  a  month  will  contribute 
twelve  thousand  rubles  to  a  certain  business.  I  must  pay 
the  same  amount.  I  say  clearly  and  declare  that,  after 
two  years  of  annoyance  with  letters,  I  cannot  and  will 
not  endure  any  longer." 

Plavitski  rested  his  arm  on  the  desk,  his  forehead  on 
his  palm,  and  was  silent.  Pan  Stanislav  looked  at  him, 
waiting  for  an  answer;  he  gazed  with  increasing  displeasure, 
and  in  his  mind  gave  himself  this  question :  "  Is  he  a 
trickster  or  a  lunatic ;  is  he  an  egotist,  so  blinded  to  him- 
self that  he  measures  good  and  evil  by  his  own  comfort 
merely ;  or  is  he  all  these  together  ?  " 

Meanwhile  Plavitski  held  his  face  hidden  on  his  palm, 
and  was  silent. 

"  I  should  like  to  say  something,"  began  Pan  Stanislav, 
at  last. 

But  the  old  man  waved  his  hand,  indicating  that  he 
wished  to  be  alone  with  his  thoughts  for  a  time  yet.  On 
a  sudden  he  raised  his  face,  which  had  grown  radiant,  — 

"  Stas,"  said  he,  "  why  are  w^e  disputing,  when  there  is 
such  a  simple  way  out  of  it  ?  " 

«  How  ?  " 

"  Take  the  marl." 

"  What  ?  " 

"Bring  thy  partner,  bring  some  specialist;  we  will  set 
a  price  on  my  marl,  and  form  a  company  of  three.  Thy  — 
what 's  his  name  ?  Bigiel,  is  n't  it  ?  will  pay  me  so  much, 
whatever  falls  to  him;  thou  wilt  either  add  something  or 
not;  and  we'll  all  go  on  together.  The  profits  may  be 
colossal." 

Pan  Stanislav  rose.  "  I  assure  you,"  said  he,  "  that 
there  is  one  thing  to  which  I  am  not  accustomed,  that  is  to 
be  made  sport  of.  I  do  not  want  your  marl;  I  want  only 
my  money;  and  what  you  tell  me  I  regard  simply  as  an 
unworthy  or  stupid  evasion." 

A  moment  of  oppressive  silence  followed.  Jove's  anger 
began  to  gather  on  the  brows  and  forehead  of  Plavitski. 
For  a  while  he  threatened  boldly  with  his  eyes,  then,  mov- 


CHILDREN  OF  THE   SOIL.  41 

ing  quickly  to  the  hooks  on  which  his  weapons  were  hang- 
ing, he  took  down  a  hunter's  knife,  and,  offering  it  to  Pan 
Stauislav,  said,  — 

"  But  there  is  another  way,  strike !  "  and  he  opened  his 
dressing-gown  widely  ;  but  Pan  Stanislav,  mastering  himself 
no  longer,  pushed  away  the  hand  with  the  knife,  and  began 
to  speak  in  a  loud  v.oice,  — 

"  This  is  a  paltry  comedy,  nothing  more  !  It  is  a  pity  to 
lose  words  and  time  with  you.  I  am  going  away,  for  I 
have  had  enough  of  you  and  your  Kremen  ;  but  I  say  that 
I  will  sell  my  debt,  even  for  half  its  value,  to  the  first  Jew 
I  meet.     He  will  be  able  to  settle  with  you." 

Then  the  right  hand  of  Plavitski  was  stretched  forth  in 
solemnity. 

*'Go,"  said  he,  "sell.  Let  the  Jew  into  the  family  nest; 
but  know  this,  that  the  curse,  both  of  me  and  of  those  who 
have  lived  here,  will  find  thee  wherever  thou  art." 

Pan  Stanislav  rushed  out  of  the  room,  white  with  rage. 
In  the  drawing-room  he  cursed  as  much  as  he  could,  look- 
ing for  his  hat ;  finding  it  at  last,  he  was  going  out  to  see  if 
the  brichka  had  come,  when  Marynia  "appeared.  At  sight 
of  her  he  restrained  himself  somewhat ;  but,  remembering 
that  she  it  was,  precisely,  who  was  occupied  with  every- 
thing in  Kremen,  he  said,  — 

"  I  bid  farewell  to  you.  I  have  finished  with  your  father. 
I  came  for  what  belonged  to  me ;  but  he  gave  me  first  a 
blessing,  then  marl,  and  finally  a  curse.  A  nice  way  to  pay 
debts  ! " 

There  was  a  moment  in  which  Marynia  wished  to  extend 
her  hand  to  him  and  say,  — 

"I  understand  your  anger.  A  while  ago  I  was  with 
father  also,  and  begged  him  to  pay  you  before  all  others. 
Deal  with  us  and  with  Kremen  as  may  please  you;  but  do 
not  accuse  me,  do  not  think  that  I  belong  to  a  conspiracy 
against  you,  and  retain  even  a  little  esteem  for  me." 

Her  hand  was  already  extending,  the  words  were  on  her 
lips,  when  Pan  Stanislav,  rousing  himself  internally,  and 
losing  his  balance  still  more,  added,  — 

"  I  say  this  because,  when  I  spoke  to  you  the  first  even- 
ing, you  were  offended,  and  sent  me  to  your  father.  I  give 
thanks  for  the  effective  advice ;  but,  as  it  was  better  for 
you  than  for  me,  I  will  follow  my  own  judgment  here- 
after." 

Marynia's  lips  grew  pale;    in   her  eyes  were  tears  of 


42  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

indignation,  and,  at  the  same  time,  of  deep  offence.     She 
raised  her  head,  and  said,  — 

''  You  may  utter  what  injuries  you  like,  since  there  is  no 
one  to  take  my  part ;  "  then  she  turned  to  the  door,  with  her 
soul  full  of  humiliation  and  almost  despair,  because  those 
were  the  only  returns  she  had  received  for  that  labor  in 
which  she  had  put  her  whole  strength  .and  all  the  zeal  of 
her  honest  young  soul.  Pan  Stanislav  saw,  too,  that  he 
had  exceeded  the  measure.  Having  very  lively  feelings, 
he  passed  in  one  instant  to  compassion,  and  wished  to 
hurry  after  her  to  beg  her  pardon ;  but  it  was  late :  she  had 
vanished. 

This  roused  a  new  attack  of  rage.  This  time,  how- 
ever, the  rage  included  himself.  Without  taking  fare- 
well of  any  one,  he  sat  in  the  brichka,  which  came  up  just 
then,  and  drove  out  of  Kremen.  In  his  soul  such  anger  was 
seething  that  for  a  time  he  could  think  of  nothing  but  ven- 
geance. "I  will  sell  it,  even  for  a  third  of  the  value,"  said 
he  to  himself,  "and  let  others  distrain  you.  I  give  my 
word  of  an  honest  man  that  I  will  sell.  Even  without 
need,  I  will  sell  out  Of  spite  ! " 

In  this  way  his  intention  was  changed  into  a  stubborn 
and  sworn  resolve.  Fan  Stanislav  was  not  of  those  who 
break  promises  given  to  others  or  themselves.  It  was  now 
a  mere  question  of  finding  a  man  to  buy  a  claim  so  difficult 
of  collection ;  for  to  receive  the  amount  of  it  was,  without 
exaggeration,  to  crack  a  flint  with  one's  teeth. 

Meanwhile  the  brichka  rolled  out  of  the  alley  to  the  road 
in  the  open  field.  Pan  Stanislav,  recovering  somewhat, 
began  to  think  of  Marynia  in  a  form  of  mind  which  was  a 
mosaic  composed  of  the  impressions  which  her  face  and 
form  had  made  on  him,  — of  recollections  of  the  Sunday  con- 
versation ;  of  repulsion,  of  pity,  of  offence,  animosity ;  and, 
finally,  dissatisfaction  with  himself,  which  strengthened 
his  animosity  against  her.  Each  of  these  feelings  in  turn 
<?onquered  the  others,  and  cast  on  them  its  color.  At  times 
he  recalled  the  stately  figure  of  Marynia,  her  eyes,  her 
dark  hair,  her  mouth,  pleasing,  though  too  large,  perhaps; 
finally,  her  expression ;  and  an  outburst  of  sympathy  for 
her  mastered  him.  He  thought  that  she  was  very  girlish ; 
but  in  her  mouth,  in  her  arms,  in  the  lines  of  her  whole 
figure,  there  was  something  womanly,  something  that  at- 
tracted with  irresistible  force.  He  recalled  her  mild  voice, 
her  calm  expression,  and  her  very  evident  goodness.    Then, 


CHILDREN  OF   THE  SOIL.  43 

at  thought  of  how  harsh  he  had  been  to  her  before  going, 

—  at  thought  of  the  tone  with  which  he  had  spoken  to 
her,  —  he  began  to  curse  himself.  "  If  the  father  is  an  old 
comedian,  a  trickster,  and  a  fool,"  said  he  to  himself;  "and 
if  she  feels  all  this,  she  is  the  unhappier.  But  what  then  ? 
Every  man  with  a  bit  of  heart  would  have  understood  the 
position,  taken  compassion  on  her,  instead  of  attacking  the 
poor  overworked  child.  I  attacked  her.  I ! "  Then  he 
wanted  to  slap  his  own  face ;  for  at  once  he  imagined  what 
might  have  been,  what  an  immeasurable  approach,  what  an 
exceptional  tenderness  would  have  arisen,  if,  after  all  the 
quarrels  with  her  father,  he  had  treated  her  as  was  proper, 

—  that  is,  with  the  utmost  delicacy.  She  would  have  given 
him  both  hands  when  he  was  leaving;  he  would  have  kissed 
them ;  and  he  and  she  would  have  parted  like  two  persons 
near  to  each  other.  "  May  the  devils  take  the  money  ! " 
repeated  he  to  himself ;  "  and  may  they  take  me  !  "  And  he 
felt  that  he  had  done  things  which  could  not  be  corrected. 
This  feeling  took  away  the  remnant  of  his  equilibrium,  and 
pushed  him  all  the  more  along  that  road,  the  error  of  which 
he  recognized.  And  he  began  a  monologue  again,  more  or 
less  like  the  following,  — 

"Since  all  is  lost,  let  all  burn.  I  will  sell  the  claim  to 
any  Jew  ;  let  him  collect.  Let  them  fly  out  on  to  the  pave- 
ment; let  the  old  man  find  some  office;  let  her  go  as  a 
governess,  or  marry  Gantovski."  Then  he  felt  that  he 
would  agree  to  anything  rather  than  the  last  thought.  He 
would  twist  Gantovski's  neck.  Let  any  one  take  her,  only 
not  such  a  wooden  head,  such  a  bear,  such  a  dolt.  Beauti» 
ful  epithets  began  to  fall  on  the  hapless  Gantovski ;  and  all 
the  venom  passed  over  on  to  him,  as  if  he  had  been  really 
the  cause  of  whatever  had  happened. 

Arriving  in  such  a  man-eating  temper  at  Chernyov,  Pan 
Stanislav  might,  perhaps,  like  another  Ugolino,  have  gnawed 
at  once  into  Gantovski  with  his  teeth,  "where  the  skull 
meets  the  neck,"  if  he  had  seen  him  at  the  station.  For- 
tunately, instead  of  Gantovski's  "  skull,"  he  saw  only  some 
officials,  some  peasants,  a  number  of  Jews,  and  the  sad,  but 
intelligent  face  of  Councillor  Yamish,  who  recognized  him, 
and  who,  when  the  train  arrived  soon,  invited  him  —  thanks 
to  good  relations  with  the  station-master  —  to  a  separate 
compartment. 

"  I  knew  your  father,"  said  he  ;  "  and  I  knew  him  in  his 
brilliant  days.     I  found  a  wife  in  that  neighborhood.     I 


44  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

remember  he  had  then  Zvihov,  Brenchantsa,  Motsare,  Roz- 
vady  in  Lubelsk,  —  a  fine  fortune.  Your  grandfather  was 
one  of  the  largest  landowners  in  that  region ;  but  now  the 
estate  must  have  passed  into  other  hands." 

"  Not  now,  but  long  since.  jV[y  father  lost  all  his  prop- 
erty during  his  life.  He  was  sickly ;  he  lived  at  Nice,  did 
not  take  care  of  what  he  had,  and  it  went.  Had  it  not 
been  for  the  inheritance  which,  after  his  death,  fell  to  my 
mother,  it  would  have  been  difficult." 

"  But  you  are  well  able  to  help  yourself.  I  know  your 
house ;  I  have  had  business  in  hops  with  you  through 
Abdulski." 

"  Then  Abdulski  did  business  with  you  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  and  I  must  confess  that  I  was  perfectly  satisfied 
with  our  relations..  You  have  treated  me  well,  and  I  see 
that  you  manage  affairs  properl}'." 

**No  man  can  succeed  otherwise.  My  partner,  Bigiel,  is 
an  honest  man,  and  I  am  not  Flavitski." 

"  How  is  that  ?  "  asked  Yamish,  with  roused  curiosity. 

Pan  Stanislav,  with  the  remnant  of  his  anger  un- 
quenched,  told  the  whole  story. 

" H'm  !  "  said  Yamish ;  "since  you  speak  of  him  without 
circumlocution,  permit  me  to  speak  in  like  manner,  though 
he  is  your  relative." 

"  He  is  no  relative  of  mine :  his  first  wife  was  a  relative 
and  friend  of  my  mother,  —  that  is  all;  he  himself  is  no 
relative." 

"I  know  him  from  childhood.  He  is  rather  a  spoiled 
than  a  bad  man.  He  was  an  only  son,  hence,  to  begin  with, 
his  parents  petted  him ;  later  on  his  two  wives  did  the  same. 
Both  were  quiet,  mild  women ;  for  both  he  was  an  idol. 
During  whole  years  matters  so  arranged  themselves  that 
he  was  the  sun  around  which  other  planets  circled;  and  at 
last  he  came  to  the  conviction  that  everything  from  others 
was  due  to  him,  and  nothing  to  others  from  him.  "When 
conditions  are  such  that  evil  and  good  are  measured  by 
one's  own  comfort  solely,  nothing  is  easier  than  to  lose 
moral  sense.  Plavitski  is  a  mixture  of  pompousness  and 
indulgence :  of  pompousness,  for  he  himself  is  ever  cele- 
brating his  own  glory  ;  and  indulgence,  for  he  permits  him- 
self everything.  This  has  become  almost  his  nature. 
Difficult  circumstances  came  on  him.  These  only  a  man 
of  character  can  meet ;  character  he  never  had.  He  began 
to  evade,  and  in  the  end  grew  accustomed  to  evasion.    Land 


CHILDREN  OF  THE   SOIL.  45 

ennobles,  but  land  also  spoils  us.  An  acquaintance  of  mine, 
a  bankrupt,  said  once  to  me,  '  It  is  not  I  who  evade,  but  my 
property,  and  I  am  only  talking  for  it.'  And  this  is  some- 
what true,  —  truer  in  our  position  than  in  any  other." 

*'  Imagine  to  yourself,"  answered  Pan  Stanislav,  "  that  J, 
who  am  a  descendant  of  the  country,  have  no  inclination 
for  agriculture.  I  know  that  agriculture  will  exist  always, 
for  it  must ;  but  in  the  form  in  which  it  exists  to-day  I  see 
no  future  for  it.     You  must  perish,  all  of  you." 

"  I  do  not  look  at  it  in  rose-colors  either. .  I  do  not  men- 
tion that  the  general  condition  of  agriculture  throughout 
Europe  is  bad,  for  that  is  known.  Just  consider.  A  noble 
has  four  sons ;  hence  each  of  these  will  inherit  only  one- 
fourth  of  his  father's  land.  Meanwhile,  what  happens  ? 
Each,  accustomed  to  his  father's  mode  of  living,  wishes 
to  live  like  the  father ;  the  end  is  foreseen  easily.  Another 
case  :  A  noble  has  four  sons  ;  the  more  capable  choose  vari- 
ous careers  ;  you  may  wager  that  the  least  capable  remains 
on  the  land.  A  third  case  :  what  a  whole  series  of  genera- 
tions have  acquired,  have  toiled  for,  one  light  head 
ruins.  Fourth,  we  are  not  bad  agriculturists,  but  bad  ad- 
ministrators. Good  administration  means  more  than  good 
cultivation  of  land ;  what  is  the  inference,  then  ?  The  land 
will  remain ;  but  we,  who  represent  it  at  present  under  the 
form  of  large  ownership,  must  leave  it  most  likely.  Then, 
do  you  see,  when  we  have  gone,  we  may  return  in  time." 

"  How  is  that  ?  " 

"  To  begin  with,  you  say  that  nothing  attracts  you  to 
land  ;  that  is  a  deception.  Land  attracts,  and  attracts  with 
such  force  that  each  man,  after  he  has  come  to  certain 
years,  to  a  certain  well-being,  is  unable  to  resist  the  desire 
of  possessing  even  a  small  piece  of  land.  That  will  come 
to  you  too,  and  it  is  natural.  Finally,  every  kind  of  wealth 
may  be  considered  as  fictitious,  except  land.  Everything 
comes  out  of  land  ;  everything  exists  for  it.  As  a  banknote 
is  a  receipt  for  metallic  money  in  the  State  Bank,  so  in- 
dustry and  commerce  and  whatever  else  you  please  is  land 
turned  into  another  form ;  and  as  to  you  personally,  who 
have  come  from  it,  you  must  return  to  it." 

"  I  at  least  do  not  think  so." 

"  How  do  you  know  ?  To-day  you  are  making  property ; 
but  how  will  you  succeed  ?  And" that,  too,  is  a  question  of 
the  future.  The  Polanyetskis  were  agriculturists  ;  now  one 
of  them  has  chosen  another  career.    The  majority  of  sons 


46  CHILDKEN   OF  THE   SOIL. 

of  agriculturists  must  choose  other  careers  also,  even  be- 
cause they  cannot  do  otherwise.  Some  of  them  will  fail ; 
some  will  succeed  and  return  —  but  return,  not  only  with 
capital,  but  with  new  energy,  and  with  that  knowledge  of 
exact  administration  which  is  developed  by  special  careers. 
They  will  return  because  of  the  attraction  which  land 
exercises,  and  finally  through  a  feeling  of  duty,  which  1 
need  not  explain  to  you." 

"  What  you  say  has  this  good  side,  that  then  my  such-an- 
uncle-not-an-uncle  Plavitski  will  belong  to  a  type  that  has 
perished.'' 

Pan  Yamish  thought  a  while  and  said,  — 

"  A  thread  stretches  and  stretches  till  it  breaks,  but  at  last 
it  must  break.  To  my  thinking,  they  cannot  hold  out  in  Kre- 
men,  even  though  they  parcel  Magyerovka.  But  do  you 
see  whom  I  pity  ?  —  Marynia.  She  is  an  uncommonly  hon- 
est girl.  For  you  do  not  know  that  the  old  man  wanted  to 
sell  Kremen  two  years  ago  ;  and  that  that  did  not  take  place 
partly  through  the  prayers  of  Marynia.  Whether  this  was 
done  out  of  regard  to  the  memory  of  her  mother,  who  lies 
buried  there,  or  because  so  much  is  said  and  written  about 
the  duty  of  holding  to  the  soil,  it  is  sufficient  that  the 
girl  did  what  she  could  to  prevent  the  sale.  She  imagined, 
poor  thing,  that  if  she  w^ould  betake  herself  with  all  power 
to  work,  she  could  do  everything.  She  abandoned  the 
whole  world  for  Kremen.  For  her  it  will  be  a  blow  when 
the  thread  breaks  at  last,  and  break  it  must.  A  pity  for 
the  years  of  the  girl !  " 

"  You  are  a  kind  person,  councillor !  "  cried  Pan  Stanis- 
lav,  with  his  accustomed  vivacity. 

The  old  man  smiled.  "  I  love  that  girl :  besides,  she  is 
my  pupil  in  agriculture  ;  of  a  truth  it  will  be  sad  when  she 
is  gone  from  us." 

Pan  Stanislav  fell  to  biting  his  mustaches,  and  said  at 
last,  '*  Let  her  marry  some  man  in  the  neighborhood,  and 
remain." 

"Marry,  marry!  As  if  that  were  easy  for  a  girl  with- 
out property.  Who  is  there  among  us  ?  Gantovski.  He 
■would  take  her.  He  is  a  good  man,  and  not  at  all  so 
limited  as  they  say.  But  she  has  no  feeling  for  him,  and 
she  will  not  marry  without  feeling.  Yalbrj^kov  is  a  small 
estate.  Besides,  it  seems  to  the  old  man  that  the  Gantov- 
skis  are  something  inferior  to  the  Plavitskis,  and  Gan- 
tovski too  believes  this.     With  us,  as  vou  know,  that  man 


CHILDREN  OF  THE   SOIL.  47 

passes  for  a  person  of  great  family  who  is  pleased  to  boast 
liimself  such.  Though  people  laugh  at  Plavitski,  they  have 
grown  used  to  his  claim.  Moreover,  one  man  raises  his 
nose  because  he  is  making  property,  another  because  he  is 
losing  it,  and  nothing  else  remains  to  him.  But  let  that 
pass.  I  know  one  thing,  whoever  gets  Marynia  will  get 
a  pearl." 

Fan  Stanislav  had  in  his  mind  at  that  moment  the  same 
conviction  and  feeling.  Sinking,  therefore,  into  meditation, 
he  began  again  to  muse  about  JNIarynia,  or,  rather,  to  call 
her  to  mind  and  depict  her  to  himself.  AH  at  once  it  even 
seemed  to  him  that  he  would  be  sad  without  her ;  but  he 
remembered  that  similar  things  had  seemed  so  to  him 
more  than  once,  and  that  time  had  swept  away  the  illusion. 
Still  lie  thought  of  her,  even  when  they  were  approaching 
the  city  ;  and  when  he  got  out  at  Warsaw,  he  muttered 
through  his  teeth, — 

''  How  stupidly  it  happened !  how  stupidly !  " 


48  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

On  his  return  to  Warsaw,  Pan  Stanislav  passed  the  first 
evening  at  the  house  of  his  partner,  Bigiel,  with  whon), 
as  a  former  schoolmate,  he  was  connected  by  personal 
intimacy. 

Bigiel,  a  Cheh  by  descent,  but  of  a  family  settled  in  the 
country  for  a  number  of  generations,  had  managed  a  small 
commercial  bank  before  his  partnership  with  Pan  Stanislav, 
and  had  won  the  reputation  of  a  man  not  over-enterprising, 
it  is  true,  but  honorable  and  uncommonly  reliable  in  busi- 
ness. When  Pan  Stanislav  entered  into  company  with 
him,  the  house  extended  its  activity,  and  became  an  im- 
portant firm.  The  partners  complemented  each  other  per- 
fectly. Pan  Stanislav  was  incomparably  more  clever  and 
enterprising;  he  had  more  ideas  and  took  in  a  whole  affair 
with  greatet  ease;  but  Bigiel  watched  its  execution  more 
carefully.  When  there  was  need  of  energy,  or  of  pushing 
any  one  to  the  wall.  Pan  Stanislav  was  the  man ;  but  when 
it  was  a  question  of  careful  thought,  of  examining  interests 
from  ten  sides,  and  of  patience,  Bigiel's  role  began.  Their 
temperaments  were  directly  opposite;  and  for  that  reason, 
perhaps,  they  had  sincere  friendship  for  each  other.  Prepon- 
derance was  relatively  on  the  side  of  Pan  Stanislav.  Bigiel 
believed  in  his  partner's  uncommon  capacity ;  and  a  num- 
ber of  ideas  really  happy  for  the  house,  which  Pan  Stanislav 
had  given,  confirmed  this  belief.  The  dream  of  both  was  to 
acquire  in  time  capital  sufficient  to  build  cotton-mills, 
which  Bigiel  would  manage,  and  Pan  Stanislav  direct. 
But,  though  both  might  count  themselves  among  men 
almost  wealthy,  the  mills  were  in  a  remote  future.  Less 
patient,  and  having  many  relatives.  Pan  Stanislav  tried,  it 
is  true,  immediately  after  his  return  from  abroad,  to  direct 
to  this  object  local,  so-called  "  our  own,"  capital ;  he  was  met, 
however,  with  a  general  want  of  confidence.  He  noticed 
at  the  same  time  a  wonderful  thing:  his  name  opened 
all  doors  to  him,  but  rather  injured  than  helped  him  in 
\)usiness.  It  might  be  that  those  people  who  invited  him 
to  their  houses  could  not  get  it  into  their  heads  that  one  of 
themselves,  hence  a  man  of  good  family  and  with  a  name 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  49 

ending  in  ski,  could  conduct  any  business  successfully. 
This  angered  Polanyetski  to  such  a  degree  that  the  clever 
Bigiel  had  to  quench  his  outburst  by  stating  that  such 
want  of  confidence  was  in  fact  caused  by  years  of  expe- 
rience. Knowing  well  the  liistory  of  different  industrial 
undertakings,  he  cited  to  Pan  Stanislav  a  whole  series  of 
cases,  beginning  with  Tyzenhaus,  the  treasurer,  and  ending 
with  various  provincial  and  land  banks,  which  had  nothing 
of  the  country  about  them  except  their  names,  —  in  other 
words,  they  were  devoid  of  every  home  basis. 

"  The  time  has  not  come  yet,"  said  Bigiel;  ""but  it  will 
come,  or,  rather,  it  is  in  sight.  Hitherto  there  have  beeu 
only  amateurs  and  dilettanti ;  now  for  the  first  time  are 
appearing  here  and  there  trained  specialists." 

Pan  Stanislav  who,  in  spite  of  his  temperament,  hau 
powers  of  observation  rather  well  developed,  began  to  make 
strange  discoveries  in  those  spheres  to  which  his  rela- 
tives gave  him  access.  He  was  met  by  a  general  recog- 
nition for  having  done  something.  This  recognition  was 
offered  with  emphasis  even ;  but  in  it  there  was  something 
like  condescension.  Each  man  let  it  be  known  too  readily 
that  he  approved  Polanyetski's  activity,  that  he  considered 
it  necessary ;  but  no  one  bore  himself  as  if  he  considered 
the  fact  that  Polanyetski  was  working  at  some  occupation 
as  a  thing  perfectly  common  and  natural.  "  They  all  pro- 
tect me,"  said  he ;  and  that  was  true.  He  came  also  to  the 
conclusion  that  if,  for  example,  he  aspired  to  the  hand  of 
any  of  the  young  ladies  of  so-called  "  society,"  his  commer- 
cial house  and  his  title  of  "  affairist "  would,  notwithstand- 
ing the  above  recognition,  have  injured  more  than  helped 
him.  They  would  rather  give  him  any  of  those  maidens 
if,  instead  of  a  lucrative  business,  he  had  some  encumbered 
estate,  or  if,  while  living  as  a  great  lord,  he  was  merely 
spending  the  interest  of  his  capital,  or  even  the  capital 
itself. 

When  he  had  made  dozens  of  observations  of  this  kind, 
Pan  Stanislav  began  to  neglect  his  relatives,  and  at  last 
abandoned  them  altogether.  He  restricted  himself  to  the 
houses  of  Bigiel  and  Pani  Emilia  Hvastovski,  and  to  those 
male  acquaintances  who  were  a  necessity  of  his  single  life. 
He  took  his  meals  at  Francois's  with  Bukatski,  old  Vas- 
kovski,  and  the  advocate  Mashko,  with  whom  he  discussed 
and  argued  various  questions  ;  he  was  often  at  the  theatre 
and  at  public  amusements  of  all  kinds.     For  the  rest,  lie  led 

4. 


60  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

rather  a  secluded  life ;  hence  he  was  unmarried  yet,  though 
he  had  great  and  fixed  willingness  to  marry,  and,  besides, 
sufficient  property. 

Having  gone  after  his  return  from  Kreraen  almost  directly 
to  Bigiel's,  he  poured  out  all  his  gall  on  "  uncle  "  Plavitski, 
thinking  that  he  would  find  a  ready  and  sympathetic 
listener ;  but  Bigiel  was  moved  little  by  his  narrative,  and 
said,  — 

"  I  know  such  types.  But,  in  truth,  where  is  Plavitski 
to  find  money,  since  he  has  none  ?  If  a  man  holds  mort- 
gages, he  should  have  a  saint's  patience.  Landed  property 
swallows  money  easily,  but  returns  it  with  the  greatest 
difficulty." 

"  Listen,  to  me,  Bigiel,"  said  Pan  Stanislav ;  "  since  thou 
hast  begun  to  grow  fat  and  sleep  after  dinner,  one  must 
have  a  saint's  patience  with  thee." 

*'  But  is  it  true,"  asked  the  unmoved  Bigiel,  "  that  thou 
art  in  absolute  need  of  this  money  ?  Hast  thou  not  at  thy 
disposal  the  money  that  each  of  us  is  bound  to  furnish  ?  " 

"  I  am  curious  to  know  what  that  is  to  thee,  or  Plavitski. 
I  have  mone}"  with  him ;  I  must  get  it,  and  that  is  the  end 
of  the  matter." 

The  entrance  of  Pani  Bigiel,  with  a  whole  flock  of 
children,  put  a  curb  on  the  quarrel.  She  was  young  yet^ 
dark-haired,  blue-eyed,  very  kind,  and  greatly  taken  up  with 
her  children,  six  in  number,  — children  liked  by  Pan  Stanis- 
lav uncommonly ;  she  was  for  this  reason  his  sincere  friend, 
and  also  Pani  Emilia's.  Both  these  ladies,  knowing  and 
loving  Marynia  Plavitski,  had  made  up  their  minds  to 
marry  her  to  Pan  Stanislav;  both  had  urged  him  very 
earnestly  to  go  to  Kremen  for  the  money.  Hence  Pani 
Bigiel  was  burning  with  curiosity  to  know  what  impression 
the  visit  had  made  on  him.  But  as  the  children  were 
present,  it  was  impossible  to  speak.  Yas,  the  younsrest,  who 
was  walking  on  his  own  feet  already,  embraced  Pan  Stan- 
islav's  leg  and  began  to  pull  it,  callinej  "Pan,  Pan  !  "  which 
in  his  speech  sounded,  "Pam,  Pam  !"  two  little  girls,  Evka 
and  Yoasia,  climbed  up  without  ceremony  on  the  knees  of 
the  young  man  ;  but  Edzio  and  Yozio  explained  to  him  their 
business.  They  were  reading  the  "Conquest  of  Mexico," 
and  were  playing  at  this  "  Conquest."  Edzio,  raising  his 
brows  and  stretching  his  hands  upwards,  spoke  excitedly,  — 

"I  will  be  Cortez,  and  Yozio  a  kniglit  on  horseback;  but 
as  neither  Evka  nor  Yoasia  wants  to  be  Montezuma,  what 


CHILDREN  OF  THE   SOIL.  01 

can  we  do  ?     We  can't  play  that  way,  can  we  ?     Somebody 
must  be  Montezuma ;  if  not,  who  will  lead  the  Mexicans  ?  " 

"  But  where  are  the  Mexicans  ?  "  asked  Pan  Stanislav. 

"  Oh,"  said  Yozio,  "  the  chairs  are  the  Mexicans,  and  the 
Spaniards  too." 

"Then  wait,  I  '11  be  Montezuma;  now  take  Mexico  !  " 

An  indescribable  uproar  began.  Pan  Stanislav's  vivacity 
permitted  him  to  become  a  child  sometimes.  He  offered 
such  a  stubborn  resistance  to  Cortez  that  Cortez  fell  to 
denying  him  the  right  to  such  resistance,  exclaiming,  not 
without  historic  justice,  that  since  Montezuma  was  beaten, 
he  must  let  himself  be  beaten.  To  which  Montezuma 
answered  that  he  cared  little  for  that ;  and  he  fought  on. 
In  this  way  the  amusement  continued  a  good  while.  And 
Pani  Bigiel,  unable  to  wait  for  the  end,  asked  her  husband 
at  last,  — 

"  How  was  the  visit  to  Kremen  ?  " 

"  He  did  what  he  is  doing  now,"  answered  Bigiel,  phleg- 
matically  :  "  he  overturned  all  the  chairs,  and  went  away." 

"  Did  he  tell  thee  that  ?  " 

"  I  had  no  time  to  ask  him  about  the  young  lady  ;  but  he 
parted  with  Plavitski  in  a  way  that  could  not  be  worse.  He 
wants  to  sell  his  claim  ;  this  will  cause  evidently  a  complete 
severance  of  relations." 

"That  is  a  pity,"  answered  Pani  Bigiel. 

At  tea,  when  the  children  had  gone  to  bed,  she  questioned 
Pan  Stanislav  plainly  concerning  Marynia. 

"I  do  not  know,"  said  he;  "perhaps  she  is  pretty,  per- 
haps she  is  not.    I  did  not  linger  long  over  the  question." 

"That  is  not  true,"  said  Pani  Bigiel. 

"  Then  it  is  not  true  ;  and  slie  is  lovable  and  pretty,  and 
whatever  you  like.  It  is  possible  to  fall  in  love  with  her, 
and  to  marry  her  ;  but  a  foot  of  mine  will  never  be  in  their 
house  again.  I  know  perfectly  why  you  sent  me  there ; 
but  it  would  have  been  better  to  tell  me  what  sort  of  a  man 
her  father  is,  for  she  must  be  like  him  in  character,  and  if 
that  be  true,  then  thanks  for  the  humiliation."  _ 

"  But  think  over  what  you  say  :  '  She  is  pretty,  she  is 
lovable,  it  is  possible  to  marry  her,'  and  then  again  :  'She 
must  be  like  her  father.'  These  statements  do  not  hold 
together." 

"  Maybe  not ;  it  is  all  one  to  me  !  I  have  no  luck,  and 
that  is  enough." 

"  But  I  will  tell  you  two  things  :  first,  you  have    come 


52  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

back  deeply  impressed  by  Marynia ;  second,  that  she  is  one 
of  the  best  young  ladies  whom  I  have  seen  in  life,  and  he 
will  be  happy  who  gets  her." 

"  Why  has  not  some  one  taken  her  before  now  ?  " 

"  She  is  twenty-one  years  old,  and  entered  society  not 
long  since.     Besides,  don't  think  that  she  has  no  suitors." 

"  Let  some  other  man  take  her." 

But  Pan  Stanislav  said  this  insincerely,  for  the  thought 
that  some  other  man  might  take  her  was  tremendously  bitter 
for  him.  In  his  soul,  too,  he  felt  grateful  to  Pani  Bigiel  for 
her  praises  of  Marynia. 

"  Let  that  rest,"  said  he ;  "  but  you  are  a  good  friend." 

"Not  only  to  Marynia,  but  to  you.  I  only  ask  for  a 
sincere,  a  really  sincere,  answer.  Are  you  impressed  or 
not?" 

"  I  impressed  ?  to  tell  the  truth,  —  immensely." 

"  Well,  do  you  see  ?  "  said  Pani  Bigiel,  whose  face  was 
radiant  with  pleasure. 

"  See  what  ?  I  see  nothing.  She  pleased  me  immensely,  — 
true  !  You  have  no  idea  what  a  sympathetic  and  attractive 
person  she  is ;  and  she  must  be  good.  But  what  of  that  ? 
I  cannot  go  a  second  time  to  Kremen,  I  came  away  in  such 
anger.  I  said  such  bitter  things,  not  only  to  Plavitski,  but 
to  her,  that  it  is  impossible." 

"  Have  you  complicated  matters  much  ?  " 

"  Rather  too  much  than  too  little." 

"Then  a  letter  might  soften  them." 

"  I  write  a  letter  to  Plavitski,  and  beg  his  pardon  !  For 
nothing  on  earth  !     Moreover,  he  has  cursed  me." 

"  How,  cursed  ?  " 

"As  patriarch  of  the  family;  in  his  own  name  and  the 
names  of  all  ancestors.  I  feel  toward  him  such  a  repulsion 
that  I  could  not  write  down  two  words.  He  is  an  old 
pathetic  comedian.  I  would  sooner  beg  her  pardon ;  but 
what  would  that  effect  ?  She  must  take  her  father's  part ; 
even  I  understand  that.  In  the  most  favorable  event,  she 
would  answer  that  my  letter  is  very  agreeable  to  her ;  and 
with  that  relations  would  cease." 

"When  Emilia  returns  from  Reichenhall  we  will  bring 
Marynia  here  under  the  first  plausible  pretext,  and  then  it 
will  be  your  work  to  let  misunderstandings  vanish." 

"Too  late,  too  late  !"  repeated  Pan  Stanislav;  "I  have 
promised  myself  to  sell  the  claim,  and  I  will  sell  it." 

"  That  is  just  what  may  be  for  the  best." 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  53 

"  No,  that  would  be  for  the  worst,"  put  in  Bigiel ;  "but  I 
will  persuade  him  uot  to  sell.  I  hope,  too,  that  a  purchaser 
will  not  be  found." 

"  Meanwhile  Emilia  will  finish  Litka's  cure."  Here  Paul 
Bigiel  turned  to  Pan  Stanislav :  "  You  will  learn  now  how 
other  young  ladies  will  seem  to  you  after  Marynia.  I  am 
not  so  intimate  with  her  as  Emilia  is,  but  I  will  try  to  find 
the  first  convenient  pretext  to  write  to  her  and  find  out  what 
she  thinks  of  you." 

Tlie  conversation  ended  here.  On  the  way  home.  Pan 
Stanislav  saw  that  Marynia  had  taken  by  no  means  the  last 
place  in  his  soul.  To  tell  the  truth,  he  could  hardly  think 
of  aught  else.  But  he  had  at  the  same  time  the  feeling  that 
this  acquaintance  had  begun  under  unfavorable  conditions, 
and  that  it  would  be  better  to  drive  the  maiden  from 
his  mind  while  there  was  time  yet.  As  a  mau  rather 
strong  than  weak  mentall}^,  and  not  accustomed  to  yield 
himself  to  dreams  simply  because  they  were  pleasant,  he 
resolved  to  estimate  the  position  soberly,  and  weigh  it  on 
all  sides.  The  young  lady  possessed,  it  is  true,  almost 
every  quality  which  he  demanded  in  his  future  wife,  and  also 
she  was  near  his  heart  personally.  But  at  the  same  time  she 
had  a  father  whom  he  could  not  endure  ;  and,  besides  the 
father,  a  real  burden  in  the  form  of  Kremen  and  its 
connections. 

"With  that  pompous  old  monkey  I  should  never  live  in 
peace  ;  T  could  not,"  thought  Pan  Stanislav.  "  For  relations 
with  him  are  possible  only  in  two  ways:  it  is  "necessary 
either  to  yield  to  him  (to  do  this  I  am  absolutely  unable), 
or  to  shake  him  up  every  day,  as  I  did  in  Kremen.  In  the 
first  case,  I,  an  independent  man,  would  enter  into  unendur- 
able slavery  to  an  old  egotist ;  in  the  second,  the  position  of 
my  wife  would  be  difficult,  and  our  peace  might  be  ruined. 

"  I  hope  that  this  is  sober,  logical  reasoning.  It  would  be 
faulty  only  if  I  were  in  love  with  the  maiden  already.  But 
I  judge  that  this  is  not  the  case.  I  am  occupied  with  her, 
not  in  love  with  her.  These  two  are  different.  Ergo,  it  is 
necessary  to  stop  thinking  of  Marynia,  and  let  some  other 
man  take  her." 

At  this  last  idea,  a  feeling  of  bitterness  burned  him 
vividly,  but  he  thought,  "I  am  so  occupied  with  her  that 
this  is  natural.  Finally,  I  have  chewed  more  than  one  bitter 
thing  in  life  ;  I  will  chew  this  one  as  well.  I  suppose  also 
that  it  will  be  less  bitter  each  day." 


54  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

But  soon  he  discovered  that  besides  bitterness  there  re- 
mained in  him  also  a  feeling  of  sorrow  because  the  prospects 
had  vanished  which  had  been  opening  before  him.  It 
seemed  to  him  that  a  curtain  of  the  future  had  been  raised, 
and  something  had  shown  him  what  might  be ;  then  the 
curtain  had  fallen  on  a  sudden,  and  his  life  had  returned  to 
its  former  career,  which  led  finally  to  nothing,  or  rather  led 
to  a  desert.  Pan  Stauislav  felt  in  every  case  that  the  old 
philosopher  Vaskovski  was  right,  and  that  the  making  of 
money  is  only  a  means.  Beyond  that,  we  must  solve  life's 
riddle  in  some  fashion.  There  must  be  an  object,  an  im- 
portant task,  which,  accomplished  in  a  manner  straight- 
forward and  honorable,  leads  to  mental  peace.  That  peace 
is  the  soul  of  life ;  without  it  life  has,  speaking  briefly,  no 
meaning. 

Pan  Stanislav  was  in  some  sense  a  child  of  the  age ;  that  is, 
he  bore  in  himself  a  part  of  that  immense  unrest  which  in 
the  present  declining  epoch  is  the  nightmare  of  mankind. 
In  him,  too,  the  bases  on  which  life  had  rested  hitherto  were 
crumbling.  He  too  doubted  whether  rationalism,  stumbling 
against  every  stone  at  the  wayside,  could  take  the  place  of 
faith ;  and  faith  he  had  not  found  yet.  He  differed,  how- 
ever, from  contemporary  "  decadents  "  in  this,  —  that  he  had 
not  become  disenchanted  with  himself,  his  nerves,  his  doubts, 
his  mental  drama,  and  had  not  given  himself  a  dispensation 
to  be  an  imbecile  and  an  idler.  On  the  contrary,  he  had  the 
feeling,  more  or  less  conscious,  that  life  as  it  is,  mysterious 
or  not  mysterious,  must  be  accomplished  through  a  series  of 
toils  and  exploits.  He  judged  that  if  it  is  impossible  to 
answer  the  various  "whys,"  still  it  behooves  a  man  to  do 
something  because  action  itself  ma}^,  to  a  certain  degree,  be 
an  answer.  It  may  be  inconclusive,  it  is  true ;  but  the  man 
who  answers  in  that  way  casts  from  himself  at  least  respon- 
sibility. What  remains  then  ?  The  founding  of  a  family 
and  social  ties.  These  must,  to  a  certain  degree,  be  a  right 
of  human  nature  and  its  predestination,  for  otherwise  people 
would  neither  marry  nor  associate  in  societies.  A  philosophy 
of  this  kind,  resting  on  Pan  Stanislav's  logical  male  instinct, 
indicated  marriage  to  him  as  one  of  the  main  objects  of  life. 
His  will  had  for  a  long  time  been  turned  and  directed  to 
this  object.  A  while  before,  Panna  Marynia  seemed  to 
him  the  pier  "for  which  his  ship  was  making  in  that 
gloomy  night."  But  when  he  understood  that  the  lamp  on 
that  pier  had  not  been  lighted   for  him,  that  he  must  sail 


CHILDREN  OF  THE   SOIL.  55 

farther,  begin  a  new  voyage  over  unknown  seas,  a  feeling  of 
weariness  and  regret  seized  him.  But  his  reasoning  seemed 
to  him  logical,  and  he  went  home  with  an  almost  settled 
conviction  that  "it  was  not  yet  that  one,"  and  "  not  yet  this 
time." 

Next  day,  when  he  went  to  dine,  he  found  Vaskovski 
and  Bukatski  at  the  restaurant.  After  a  while  Mashko 
also  came  in,  with  his  arrogant,  freckled  face  and  long 
side  whiskers,  a  monocle  on  his  eye,  and  wearing  a  white 
waistcoat.  After  the  greeting,  all  began  to  inquire  of  Pan 
Stanislav  touching  his  journey,  for  they  knew  partly  why 
the  ladies  had  insisted  on  his  personal  visit,  and,  besides, 
they  knew  Marynia  through   Pani  Emilia. 

After  they  had  heard  the  narrative,  Bukatski,  transparent 
as  Sevres  porcelain,  said  with  that  phlegm  special  to 
him,  — 

"  It  is  war,  then  ?  That  is  a  young  lady  who  acts  on  the 
nerves,  and  now  would  be  the  time  to  strike  for  her.  A 
woman  will  accept  more  readily  the  arm  offered  on  a  stony 
path  than  on  a  smooth  road." 

"  Then  offer  an  arm  to  her,"  said  Pan  Stanislav,  with  a 
certain  impatience. 

"  See  thou,  my  beloved,  there  are  three  hindrances. 
First,  Pani  Emilia  acts  on  my  nerves  still  more  ;  second, 
I  have  a  pain  in  my  neclc  every  morning,  and  in  the  back 
of  my  head,  which  indicates  brain  disease;  third,  I  am 
naked." 

"  Thou  naked  ?  " 

"At  least  now.  I  have  bought  a  number  of  Falks,  all 
avant  la  lettre.  I  have  plucked  myself  for  a  month,  and  if 
I  receive  from  Italy  a  certain  Massaccio,  for  which  I  have 
been  bargaining,  I  shall  ruin  myself  for  a  year." 

Vaskovski,  who  from  his  features,  or  rather  from  the 
freckles  on  his  face,  was  somewhat  like  Mashko,  though 
much  older,  and  with  a  face  full  of  sweetness,  fixed  his 
blue  eyes  on  Bukatski,  and  said,  — 

"  And  that  too  is  a  disease  of  the  age,  —  collecting  and 
collecting  on  all  sides  !  " 

"  Oh,  ho  !  there  will  be  a  dispute,"  remarked  Mashko. 

"  We  have  nothing  better  to  do,"  said  Pan  Stanislav. 

And  Bukatski  took  up  the  gauntlet. 

"  What  have  you  against  collecting  ?  " 

"ISTothing,"  answered  Vaskovski.  '-'It  is  a  kind  of  old- 
womanish  method  of  loving  art,  worthy  of  our  age.     I>o 


56  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

you  not  think  there  is  something  decrepit  about  it  ?  To 
ray  thinking,  it  is  very  characteristic.  Once  people  bore 
within  them  enthusiasm  for  high  art :  they  loved  it  where 
it  was,  in  museums,  in  churches ;  to-day  they  take  it  to 
their  own  private  cabinets.  Long  ago  people  ended  with 
collecting ;  to-day  they  begin  with  it,  and  begin  at  oddities. 
I  am  not  talking  at  Bukatski ;  but  to-day  the  youngest  boy, 
if  he  has  a  little  money,  will  begin  to  collect  —  and  what  ? 
Not  objects  of  art,  but  its  oddities,  or  in  every  case  its 
trifles.  You  see,  my  dear  friend,  it  has  seemed  to  me 
always  that  love  and  amateurism  are  two  different  things ; 
and  I  insist  that  a  great  amateur  of  women,  for  example, 
is  not  a  man  capable  of  lofty  feeling." 

"Perhaps  so.  There  is  something  in  that,"  said  Pan 
Stanislav. 

"  How  can  this  concern  me  ?  "  inquired  Mashko,  passing 
his  fingers  through  his  English  side  whiskers.  "It  con- 
tains, to  begin  with,  the  decree  of  an  ancient  pedagogue 
about  modern  times." 

"  Of  a  pedagogue  ?  "  repeated  Vaskovski.  "  Why,  since 
a  morsel  of  bread  fell  to  me,  as  from  heaven,^  I  renounced 
the  slaughter  of  innocents  and  the  role  of  Herod ;  secondly, 
you  are  mistaken  in  saying  that  I  utter  a  decree.  Almost 
with  joy  I  see  and  note  new  proofs  every  hour  that  we  are 
at  the  end  of  an  epoch,  and  that  a  new  one  will  begin 
shortly." 

"We  are  in  the  open  sea,  and  will  not  turn  to  shore 
soon,"  muttered  Mashko. 

"  Give  us  peace,"  said  Pan  Stanislav. 

But  the  unconqnered  Vaskovski  continued,  — 

"  Amateurism  leads  to  refinement ;  in  refinement  great 
ideals  perish,  and  yield  to  desire  for  enjoyment.  All  this 
is  nothing  but  paganism.  No  one  can  realize  to  what  a 
degree  we  are  paganized.  But  is  there  something  ?  There 
is  the  Aryan  spirit,  which  does  not  ossify,  which  never 
grows  cold,  —  a  spirit  which  has  within  it  the  divine  afflatus, 
hence  creative  power ;  and  this  spirit  feels  hampered  in 
pagan  fetters.  The  reaction  has  set  in  already,  and  a 
rebirth  in  Christ  will  begin  in  this  field,  as  in  others. 
That  is  undoubted." 

Vaskovski,  who  had  eyes  like  a  child,  —  that  is,  reflecting 
only  external  objects  and  ever  fixed,  as  it  were,  on  infinity, 

1  He  had  received  ao  inheritance  some  time  before^ 


CHILDREN   OF  THE   SOIL.  67 

—  fixed  them  on  the  window,  through   which  were  visible 
gray  clouds  pierced  here  and  there  by  sun-rays. 

*'  It  is  a  pity  that  my  head  aches,  for  that  will  be  a 
curious  epoch,"  said  Bukatski. 

But  Mashko,  who  called  Vaskovski  "  a  saw,"  and  was 
annoyed  by  his  discussions,  begun  from  any  cause  or  with- 
out  cause,  took  from  the  side-pocket  of  his  coat  a  cigar, 
bit  off  the  end,  and,  turning  to  Pan  Stanislav,  said,  — 

"  Here,  Stas,  wouldst  thou  really  sell  that  claim  on 
Kremen  ?  " 

"  Decidedly.     Why  dost  thou  ask  ?  " 

"  Because  I  might  consider  it." 

»  Thou  ?  " 

"  Yes.  Thou  knowest  that  I  consider  this  kind  of  busi- 
ness frequently.  We  can  talk  about  it.  I  cannot  say  any- 
thing certain  to-day ;  but  to-morrow  I  will  ask  thee  to  send 
me  the  mortgage  on  Kremen,  and  I  will  tell  thee  whether 
the  thing  is  possible.  Perhaps  after  dinner  to-morrow 
tliou  wilt  come  to  me  to  drink  coffee;  we  may  settle  some- 
thing then." 

"  Well.  If  anything  is  to  be  done,  I  should  prefer  it 
done  quickly ;  for  the  moment  I  finish  with  Bigiel,  I  wish 
to  go  abroad." 

"  Whither  art  thou  going  ?  "  asked  Bukatski. 

"  I  do  not  know.  It  is  too  hot  in  the  city.  Somewhere 
to  trees  and  water." 

*'  Another  old  prejudice,"  said  Bukatski.  "  In  the  city 
there  is  always  shade  on  one  side  of  the  street,  which  there 
is  not  in  the  country.  I  walk  on  the  shady  side  quietly 
^nd  feel  well;  therefore  I  never  go  out  of  the  city  in 
^ummei'. 

"  But  Professor,  art  thou  not  going  somewhere  ?  "  asked 
Pan  Stanislav. 

"  Of  course.  Pani  Emilia  has  been  urging  me  to  go  to 
Reichenhall.     Perhaps  I  shall  go." 

"  Then  let  us  go  together.  It  is  all  one  to  me  where  I 
go.  I  like  Salzburg,  and,  besides,  it  will  be  pleasant  to  see 
Pani  Emilia  and  Litka." 

Bukatski  stretched  forth  his  transparent  hand,  took  a 
tooth-pick  from  a  glass,  and,  picking  his  teeth,  began  to 
speak  in  his  cool  and  careless  voice,  — 

'*  There  is  such  a  mad  storm  of  jealousy  raging  within 
me  that  I  am  ready  to  go  with  you.  Have  a  care,  Pola- 
nyetski,  lest  I  explode,  like  dynamite." 


58  CHILUKEN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

There  was  something  so  amusingly  contradictory  between 
the  words  and  the  tone  of  Bukatski  that  Pan  Stanislav 
laughed,  but  after  a  while  he  answered,  — 

"  It  had  not  occurred  to  me  that  it  is  possible  to  fall  in 
love  with  Pani  Emilia.     Thank  thee  for  the  idea." 

"  Woe  to  you  both !"  said  Bukatski. 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  80IL.  59 


CHAPTER  V. 


Next  day,  after  an  early  dinner  at  Bigiel's,  Pan  Stanislav 
betook  himself  to  Mashko's  at  the  appointed  hour.  The 
host  was  waiting  for  him  evidently;  for  in  the  study  he 
found  an  exquisite  coffee  service  ready,  and  glasses  for 
liqueurs.  Mashko  himself  did  not  appear  at  once,  liow- 
ever ;  for,  as  the  servant  said,  he  was  receiving  some  lady. 
In  fact,  his  voice  and  the  words  of  a  woman  came  through 
the  door  from  the  drawing-room. 

Meanwhile,  Pan  Stanislav  fell  to  examining  Mashko's 
ancestors,  a  number  of  whose  portraits  were  hanging  on 
the  walls.  The  authenticity  of  these  the  friends  of  the 
young  advocate  doubted.  A  certain  cross-eyed  prelate 
afforded  Bukatski  a  special  subject  for  witticisms;  but 
Mashko  was  not  offended.  He  had  determined,  cost  what 
it  might,  to  force  on  the  world  himself,  his  ancestors,  his 
genius  for  business,  knowing  that,  in  the  society  in  which 
he  moved,  people  would  ridicule  him,  but  no  one  would 
have  energy  to  attack  his  pretensions.  Possessing  energy, 
limitless  insolence,  and  a  real  turn  for  business  besides,  he 
determined  to  force  himself  upward  by  those  qualities. 
People  who  did  not  like  him  called  him  shameless ;  and  he 
was,  but  with  calculation.  Coming  from  a  family  uncer- 
tain even  as  to  its  nobility,  he  treated  people  of  undoubted 
ancient  families  as  if  he  were  of  incomparably  better  birth 
than  they,  people  who  were  of  undoubted  wealth,  as  if  he 
were  wealthier  than  they.  And  this  succeeded :  those  tactics 
of  his  were  effective.  He  was  careful  not  to  fall  into  com- 
plete ridicule ;  but  he  had  marked  out  for  himself  in  this 
procedure  uncommonly  wide  margins.  At  last  he  reached 
the  point  which  he  sought :  he  was  received  everywhere, 
and  had  established  his  credit  firmly.  Certaintransactions 
brought  him  really  generous  profits ;  but  he  did  not  hoard 
money.  He  judged  that  the  time  for  that  had  not  come  yet, 
and  that  he  must  invest  more  in  the  future,  with  the  intent 
that  it  would  repay  him  in  the  way  which  he  wanted.  He 
did  not  squander  money,  and  was  not  over  liberal,  for  he 
looked  on  those  as  marks  of  a  parvenu;  but,  when  the 
need  came,  he   showed   himself,  to   use  his  own  phrase, 


60  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

"  solidly  munificent."  He  passed  for  a  very  smooth  man 
ill  business,  and,  above  all,  a  man  of  his  word.  His  word 
rested  on  credit,  it  is  true;  but  it  kept  him  in  a  high  posi- 
tion, which  in  turn  permitted  him  to  make  really  important 
transactions.  He  did  not  draw  back  before  trifles.  He 
possessed  daring,  and  a  certain  energy  which  excluded  long 
hesitation ;  he  had  faith,  too,  in  his  own  fortune.  Success 
strengthened  that  faith.  He  did  not  knt>w,  in  fact,  how 
much  property  he  had;  but  he  handled  large  sums  of 
money,  and  people  considered  him  wealthy. 

Finally,  Mashko's  life  motive  was  vanity,  rather  than 
greed.  He  wanted  to  be  rich,  it  is  true  5  but,  beyond  all, 
he  wanted  to  pass  for  a  great  lord  in  English  fashion.  He 
went  so  far  as  to  adapt  his  exterior  thereto,  and  was  almost 
proud  of  his  personal  ugliness:  it  seemed  to  him  even 
aristocratic.  There  was,  indeed,  a  certain  something,  which, 
if  not  uncommon,  was  at  least  peculiar,  in  his  pouting 
mouth,  in  his  broad  nostrils,  and  the  red  freckles  on  his 
face.  There  was  a  certain  power  and  brutality,  such  as 
the  English  have  sometimes,  and  that  expression  was  in- 
creased by  his  monocle.  To  wear  this,  he  had  to  rear  his 
head  somewhat;  and  when  he  passed  his  fingers  through 
his  light  side  whiskers,  he  reared  it  still  more. 

Pan  Stanislav  could  not  endure  the  man  at  first,  and 
concealed  his  dislike  even  too  slightly.  Later  on  he  became 
accustomed  to  him,  especially  since  Mashko  treated  him 
differently  from  others,  —  perhaps  through  secret  regard; 
perhaps  because,  wishing  to  gain  in  advance  a  man  so 
demanding,  to  act  otherwise  would  be  to  expose  himself  to 
an  immediate  account,  disagreeable  in  the  best  case.  At 
last,  the  young  men,  by  meeting  often,  grew  used  to  each 
other's  weaknesses,  and  endured  each  other  perfectly.  On 
this  occasion,  for  example,  when  Mashko  had  conducted 
the  lady  to  the  door,  he  showed  himself  in  the  study,  set 
aside  for  the  moment  his  greatness,  and,  greeting  Pan 
Stanislav,  began  to  speak  like  an  ordinary  mortal,  not  like 
a  great  lord  or  an  Englishman. 

"With  women!  with  women!  c'est  toujours  une  mer  a 
hoire  (there  is  always  a  sea  to  drink).  I  have  invested 
their  little  capital,  and  I  pay  them  the  interest  most  regu- 
larly. Not  enough !  They  come  at  least  once  a  week  to 
inquire  if  there  has  not  been  some  earthquake." 

"What  wilt  thou  say  to  me  ?  "  asked  Pan  Stanislav. 

**  First  of  all,  drink  some  coflFee." 


CHILDREN  OF   inE   SOIL.  61 

And,  igniting  the  alcohol  under  the  hiinp,  he  added,  — 

"  With  thee  there  will  be  no  delay.  1  have  seen  the  mort- 
gage. The  money  is  not  easy  of  recovery ;  but  we  need 
not  look  on  it  as  lost.  Evidently  the  collection  will  involve 
costs,  journeys,  etc.  Hence  I  cannot  give  thee  what  the 
face  of  the  mortgage  indicates ;  but  I  will  give  two-thirds, 
and  pay  in  three  instalments  in  the  course  of  a  year," 

"Since  I  have  said  to  myself  that  I  would  sell  the  claim, 
even  for  less  than  the  face  of  it,  I  agree.  When  will  the 
first  instalment  be  paid  ?  " 

"  In  three  months." 

"Then  I  will  leave  my  power  of  attorney  with  Bigiel  in 
case  I  must  go  on  a  journey." 

"  But  art  thou  going  to  Keichenhall  ?  " 

"  Possibly." 

"  Ai !    Who  knows  but  Bukatski  has  given  thee  an  idea  ?  " 

"Every  one  has  his  own  thoughts.  Thou,  for  example. 
Why  art  thou  buying  this  claim  on  Kremen  ?  The  busi- 
ness is  too  small  for  thee,  is  it  not  ?  " 

"  Among  great  affairs  small  ones  too  are  transacted.  But 
I  will  be  outspoken.  Thou  knowest  that  neither  my  posi- 
tion nor  my  credit  belongs  to  the  lowest ;  both  one  and  the 
other  will  increase  when  I  have  behind  me  a  piece  of  land, 
and  that  such  a  large  one.  I  have  heard  myself  from 
Plavitski  that  he  would  sell  Kremen.  I  will  suppose  that 
he  is  still  more  inclined  now,  and  that  it  will  be  possible 
to  acquire  all  that  property  cheaply,  even  very  cheaply,  for 
some  payments,  for  some  unimportant  ready  money,  with 
a  life  annuity  in  addition  ;  I  shall  see !  Afterward,  when 
it  is  put  in  order  a  little,  like  a  horse  for  the  market,  it 
may  be  sold ;  meanwhile  I  shall  have  the  position  of  a  land- 
holder, which,  entre  nous,  concerns  me  very  greatly." 

Pan  Stanislav  listened  to  Mashko's  words  with  a  certain 
constraint,  and  said,  — 

"  I  must  tell  thee  plainly  that  the  purchase  will  not  be 
easy.  Panna  Plavitski  is  very  much  opposed  to  selling. 
She,  in  woman  fashion,  is  in  love  with  her  Kremen,  and 
will  do  all  she  can  to  retain  it  in  the  hands  of  herself 
and  her  father." 

« Thea  in  the  worst  case  I  shall  be  Plavitski's  creditor, 
and  I  do  not  think  that  the  money  will  be  lost  to  me. 
Eirst,  I  may  sell  it,  as  thou  hast ;  second,  as  an  advocate. 
I  can  dispose  of  it  with  far  greater  ease.  I  may  myself 
find  means  of  paying,  and  indicate  them  to  Plavitski." 


62  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

"  Thou  caust  foreclose  too,  and  buy  it  at  auction." 

"  I  might  if  I  were  some  one  else,  but  to  foreclose  would 
be  devilishly  unbecoming  in  Mashko.  No ;  other  meaus 
will  be  found,  to  which  ready  consent  may  be  given  by 
Panna  Plavitski  herself,  for  wliom,  by  the  way,  I  have 
great  esteem  and  regard." 

Pan  Stanislav,  who  at  that  moment  was  finishing  his 
coffee,  put  his  cup  suddenly  on  the  table.  "  Ah,"  said  he, 
"  and  it  is  possible  in  that  way  to  get  at  the  property." 
Again  a  feeling  of  great  anger  and  bitterness  seized  him. 
At  the  first  moment  he  wished  to  rise,  say  to  Mashko,  "  1 
will  not  sell  the  claim  ! "  and  go  out.  He  restrained  him- 
self, however,  and  Mashko,  passing  his  fingers  through  his 
side  whiskers,  answered,  — 

"  But  if  ?  —  I  can  assure  thee,  on  my  word,  that  at  this 
moment  I  have  no  such  plan  ;  at  least  I  have  not  placed  it 
before  myself  definitely.  But  if  ?  —  I  made  the  acquaintance 
of  Panna  Plavitski  once  in  Warsaw,  in  the  winter,  and  she 
pleased  me  much.  The  family  is  good,  the  property  ruined, 
but  large,  and  can  be  saved.  Who  knows  ?  Well,  that  is 
an  idea  like  any  other.  I  am  perfectly  loyal  with  thee,  as, 
for  that  matter,  I  have  been  always.  Thou  didst  go  there 
as  if  for  money,  but  I  knew  why  those  ladies  sent  thee. 
Thou  hast  returned,  however,  as  angry  as  the  devil ;  there- 
fore I  take  it  that  thou  hast  no  intentions.  Say  that  I  am 
mistaken,  and  I  will  withdraw  at  once,  not  from  the  plan, 
for,  as  I  have  assured  thee,  I  have  no  plan  yet,  but  even 
from  thinking  over  it  as  something  possible.  T  give  thee 
my  word  on  that.  In  the  opposite  case,  however,  do  not 
hold  to  the  position,  *  Not  for  me,  not  for  any  one,'  and  do 
not  bar  the  lady's  way.     But  now  I  listen  to  thee." 

Pan  Stanislav,  recalling  his  reasonings  of  yesterday, 
thought  also  that  Mashko  was  right  when  he  said  that  in 
such  a  case  he  ought  not  to  bar  any  one's  road  to  the  lady, 
and  after  a  certain  time  he  said,  — 

*'  Xo,  Mashko,  I  have  no  intentions  touching  Panna  Pla- 
vitski. Thou  art  free  to  marry  her  or  not.  I  will  say, 
nevertheless,  openly,  there  is  one  thing  which  does  not 
please  me,  though  for  me  it  is  profitable ;  namely^  that 
thou  art  buying  this  claim.  I  believe  that  thou  haist  no 
plaii  yet ;  but  in  case  thou  shouldst  have  one,  it  will  seem 
somewhat  strange —  But  any  pressure,  any  trap  —  this, 
however,  is  thy  affair." 

"  It  is  so  much  my  affair  that  if  some  one  else,  and  not 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  63 

thou,  had  said  this,  I  should  have  been  quick  to  remind 
him.  I  may  tell  thee,  however,  that  should  I  form  such  a 
plan,  which  I  doubt,  I  shall  not  ask  the  hand  of  Panna 
Plavitski  as  interest  for  my  money.  Since  I  can  say  to 
myself  conscientiously  that  I  would  buy  the  debt  in  any 
case,  I  have  the  right  to  buy  it.  Above  all,  as  matters 
stand  to-day,  I  wish  to  buy  Kremen,  for  I  need  it ;  hence  I 
am  free  to  use  all  honorable  means  which  may  lead  to  that 
end." 

"  Very  well ;  I  will  sell.  Give  directions  to  write  the 
contract,  and  send  it,  or  bring  it  thysglf  to  me." 

"  I  have  directed  my  assistant.  It  is  ready,  and  needs 
only  the  signatures." 

In  fact,  the  contract  was  signed  a  quarter  of  an  hour 
later.  Fan  Stanislav,  who  spent  the  evening  of  that  day 
at  Bigiel's,  was  in  sucli  anger  as  he  had  never  been  before ; 
Pani  Bigiel  could  not  hide  her  vexation  ;  and  Bigiel,  think- 
ing the  whole  over  carefully  said,  toward  the  end  of  the 
evening,  with  his  usual  balance  and  deliberation,  — 

"  That  Mashko  has  a  plan  is  beyond  doubt.  The  question 
is  merely  whether  he  is  deceiving  thee  by  saying  that  he 
has  no  plan,  or  is  deceiving  himself!  " 

"  God  preserve  her  from  Mashko!  "  answered  Pani  Bigiel. 
"  We  all  saw  that  she  pleased  him  greatly." 

"I  supposed,"  said  Bigiel,  "that  a  man  like  Mashko 
would  look  for  property,  but  I  may  be  mistaken.  It  may 
be  also  that  he  wants  to  find  a  wife  of  good  stock, 
strengthen  thereby  his  social  position,  become  related  to 
numerous  families,  and  at  last  take  into  his  hands  the  busi- 
ness of  a  certain  whole  sphere  of  society.  That  also  is  not 
badly  calculated,  especially  since,  if  he  uses  his  credit, 
which  will  be  increased  by  Kremen,  it  may  with  his  clev- 
erness clear  him  in  time," 

"And  as  you  say,"  remarked  Pan  Stanislav,  "Panna 
Plavitski  pleases  him  really.  I  reniember  now  that  Pla- 
vitski said  something  too  on  this  subject." 

"What  then?"  asked  Pani  Bigiel;  "what  will  happen 

then  ? "  .    ^       •  V     « 

"  Panna  Plavitski  will  marry  Pan  Mashko  if  she  wishes, 

said  Pan  Stanislav. 
"  But  you  ?  " 
«  Oh  1  am  going  to  Reicheuhall  straightway. 


64  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 


CHAPTER  VL 

In  fact,  Pan  Stanislav  went  a  week  later  to  Reichenhall ; 
but  before  that  he  received  a  letter  from  Pani  Emilia  in- 
quiring about  his  journey  to  Kremen.  He  did  not  write 
in  return,  for  he  intended  to  answer  the  letter  orally.  He 
heard  too,  but  only 'on  the  eve  of  his  departure,  that 
Mashko  had  gone  to  Kremen  the  day  before ;  and  that  news 
touched  him  more  than  he  thought  it  would.  He  said  to 
himself,  it  is  true,  that  he  would  forget  the  afifair  when  no 
farther  away  than  Vienna ;  but  he  could  not  forget  it,  and 
he  had  his  head  so  occupied  with  thinking  whether  Panna 
Plavitski  would  marry  Mashko  or  not,  that  lie  wrote  to 
Bigiel  from  Salzburg,  as  it  were  on  business,  but  really  ask- 
ing him  to  send  news  of  Mashko.  He  listened  without 
attention  to  the  discussions  of  his  travelling  companion, 
Vaskovski,  about  the  mutual  relations  of  nationalities  in 
Austria,  and  the  mission  of  modern  nations  in  general. 
More  than  once  he  was  so  occupied  with  thinking  about  Ma- 
rynia  that  he  simply  did  not  answer  questions.  It  aston- 
ished him,  too,  that  at  times  he  saw  her  as  clearly  as  if  she 
had  been  standing  before  him,  not  only  as  an  exact  image, 
but  as  a  living  person.  He  saw  her  pleasant,  mild  face, 
with  shapely  mouth,  and  the  little  ensign  on  the  upper  lip ; 
the  calm  gaze  of  her  eyes,  in  which  were  visible  the  atten- 
tion and  concentration  with  which  she  listened  to  his 
words;  he  saw  her  whole  posture,  lithe,  supple,  from 
which  came  the  warmt]i  of  great  and  genuine  maiden 
youthfulness.  He  remembered  her  bright  robe,  the  tips  of 
her  feet,  peeping  from  under  it,  her  hands,  delicate,  though 
slightly  sunburnt,  ^and  her  dark  hair,  moved  by  the  breeze 
in  the  garden.  He  had  never  thought  that  there  could  be 
a  memory  almost  palpable,  and  that  the  memor}'  of  a  per- 
son seen  during  such  a  brief  time.  But  he  understood  this 
to  be  a  proof  of  how  deep  an  impression  she  had,  in  truth, 
made  on  him  ;  and  when  at  moments  it  passed  through  his 
head  that  all  this,  which  had  fixed  itself  thus  in  his  mem- 
ory, might  be  possessed  by  Mashko,  he  could  hardly  believe 
it.     In  those  moments  his  first  feeling,  which  was,  more- 


ClilLDUEN  OF  THE  SOIL.  65 

over,  ill  accord  with  his  active  nature,  was  an  irresistible 
impulse  to  hinder  it.  He  liad  to  remember  then  that  the 
affair  was  decided  already,  and  that  he  had  resolved  to  drop 
Panna  Plavitski. 

He  and  Vaskovski  reached  Eeichenhall  early  in  the 
morning ;  and  that  very  day,  before  they  had  learned  the 
address  of  Pani  Emilia,  they  met  her  and  Litka  in  the 
park.  She  had  not  expected  to  see  either,  especially  Pan 
Stanislav,  and  was  sincerely  delighted  when  she  met  them ; 
her  delight  was  darkened  only  by  this,  that  Litka,  a  child 
exceptionally  sensitive,  and  ailing  with  asthma  and  heart- 
disease,  was  still  more  delighted,  so  much  delighted,  indeed, 
that  she  had  a  violent  palpitation  of  the  heart,  with  sti- 
fling and  almost  a  swoon. 

Such  attacks  were  frequent  with  her ;  and,  when  this  one 
passed,  calmness  came  back  to  all  faces.  On  the  way  to 
the  house,  the  child  held  "  Pan  Stas  "  by  the  hand,  and  in 
her  eyes,  usually  pensive,  there  shone  deep  delight.  From 
time  to  time  she  pressed  his  hand,  as  if  to  convince  herself 
that  he  had  come  really  to  Reichenhall  and  was  near  her. 
Pan  Stanislav  had  simply  no  time  to  speak  to  Pani  Emilia, 
or  to  make  an  inquiry,  for  Litka  was  showing  him  Reichen- 
hall, and  chattering  unceasingly ;  she  wanted  to  show  him 
all  the  nice  places  at  once.     Every  moment  she  said,  — 

"  This  is  nothing  yet.  Thumsee  is  prettier ;  but  we  will 
go  there  to-morrow." 

Then  turning  to  her  mother,  "  Mamma  will  let  me  go, 
is  n't  it  true  ?  I  can  walk  much  now.  It  is  not  far. 
Mamma  will  let  me  go,  will  she  not  ?  " 

At  moments  again  she  pushed  away  from  Pan  Stanislav, 
and,  without  dropping  his  hand,  looked  at  him  with  her 
great  eyes,  repeating,  — 

"  Pan  Stas,  Pan  Stas !  " 

Pan  Stanislav  showed  her  the  greatest  tenderness,  or 
tendernesses  great  as  an  elder  brother  might  show;  time 
after  time  he  chided  her  good-naturedly,  — 

*'  Let  the  kitten  not  run  so ;  she  will  choke." 

And  she  nestled  up  to  him,  pouted,  and  answered,  as  if 
in  anger,  — 

"Hush,  Pan  Stas!" 

Pan  Stanislav  glanced,  however,  frequently  at  the  serene 
face  of  Pani  Emilia,  as  if  desiring  to  let  her  know  that 
he  wished  to  converse  witj.  her.  But  there  was  no  oppor- 
tunity, since  she  did    \ct  iike  to  destroy  Litka's  joyous- 


66  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

ness,  and  preferred  to  leave  their  mutual  friend  in  her  pos- 
session exclusively.  Only  after  dinner,  which  they  ate  in 
the  garden  together,  amid  foliage  and  the  twittering  of 
sparrows,  when  Vaskovski  had  begun  to  tell  Litka  about 
birds,  and  the  love  which  Saint  Francis  Assisi  had  felt  for 
them,  and  the  child,  with  her  head  on  her  hand,  was  lost 
completely  in  listening,  did  Pan  Stanislav  turn  to  Pani 
Emilia  and  ask, — 

"  Do  you  not  wish  to  walk  to  the  end  of  the  garden  ?  " 

"  I  do,"  answered  she.  "  Litka,  stay  here  a  minute  with 
Pan  Vaskovski ;    we  will  come  back  in  that  time." 

They  walked  along,  and  Pani  Emilia  asked  immediately, — 

"  Well,  what  ?  " 

Pan  Stanislav  began  to  tell ;  but  whether  it  was  that  he 
wished  to  appear  better  before  Pani  Emilia,  or  that  he 
determined  to  reckon  with  that  delicate  nature,  or,  finally, 
that  the  last  thoughts  concerning  Marynia  had  attuned 
him  to  a  note  more  sensitive  than  usual,  it  is  sufficient  that 
he  changed  the  affair  altogether.  He  confessed,  it  is  true, 
to  a  quarrel  with  Plavitski,  but  he  was  silent  touching  this, 
that  before  his  departure  from  Kremen  he  had  answered 
Marynia  almost  with  harshness  ;  besides,  he  did  not  spare 
praises  on  her  in  his  story,  and  finally  he  finished,  — 

"Since  that  debt  became  a  cause  of  misunderstanding  at 
once  between  me  and  Plavitski, — a  thing  which  must  be  re- 
flected on  Panna  Marynia,  —  I  chose  to  sell  it ;  and  just 
before  I  left  Warsaw,  I  sold  it  to  Mashko." 

Pani  Emilia,  who  had  not  the  slightest  conception  of 
business,  and,  besides,  was  of  a  simplicity  truly  angelic, 
remarked,  — 

"  You  did  well.  There  should  be  no  such  thing  as 
money  between  you." 

Ashamed  to  deceive  siich  a  simple  soul,  he  answered,  — 

"  True  !  Or  rather  the  contrary,  I  think  I  did  badly. 
Bigiel,  too,  is  of  the  opinion  that  it  was  not  well.  Mashko 
may  press  them  ;  he  may  put  various  demands  before  them  ; 
he  may  offer  Kremen  for  sale.  No,  that  was  not  a  delicate 
act,  nor  one  to  bring  us  nearer ;  and  I  should  not  have  com- 
mitted it,  were  it  not  that  I  came  to  the  conviction  that  it 
was  necessary  to  drive  all  that  out  of  my  head." 

"  But  no  ;  do  not  say  so.  I  believe  that  there  is  predes- 
tination in  everything;  and  I  believe,  too,  that  Providence 
designed  yoxi  for  each  other." 

"  I  do  not  understand  that.     If  that  be  true,  then  T  need 


CHILDREN  OF  THE   SOIL.  67 

not  do  anything,  for  in  eveiy  case  I  must  marry  Panna 
Plavitski." 

"  I  have  a  woman's  head,  and  say  stupid  things,  perhaps  ; 
but  it  seems  to  me  that  Providence  wills  and  arranges  every- 
thing for  the  best,  but  leaves  people  freedom.  Frequently 
they  do  not  wish  to  follow  that  which  is  predestined,  and 
this  is  why  so  many  are  unhappy." 

"  Maybe.  It  is  difficult,  however,  to  follow  anything  but 
one's  own  convictions.  Reason  is  like  a  lantern,  which 
God  puts  in  our  hands.  Who  will  assure  me  meanwhile 
that  Panna  Marynia  will  marry  me  ?  " 

"  I  ought  to  have  news  from  her  of  your  visit  to  Kremen, 
and  I  wonder  that  so  far  I  have  none.  I  think  that  a 
letter  will  come  to-morrow  at  latest,  for  we  write  every 
week  to  each  other.  Does  she  know  of  your  departure  for 
Reichenhall  ?  " 

"  She  does  not.  I  did  not  know  myself  when  in  Kremen 
where  I  should  go." 

"  That  is  well ;  for  she  will  be  outspoken,  though  she 
would  be  so  in  any  case." 

The  first  day's  conversation  ended  here.  In  the  evening 
it  was  decided  at  Litka's  request  to  walk  to  Thumsee,  and 
go  in  the  morning  so  as  to  dine  at  the  lake,  return  in  a 
carriage,  or  on  foot,  if  Litka  was  not  tired  and  they  could 
return  before  sunset.  The  two  men  presented  themselves 
at  the  lady's  villa  before  nine  in  the  morning.  Pani 
Emilia  and  Litka  were  dressed  and  waiting  on  the  veranda ; 
both  were  so  like  visions  that  Vaskovski,  the  old  peda- 
gogue, was  astonished  at  sight  of  them. 

"  The  Lord  God  makes  perfect  flowers  of  people  some- 
times," said  he,  pointing  at  mother  and  daughter  from  a 
distance. 

Indeed,  Pani  Emilia  and  Litka  were  admired  by  all 
Reichenhall.  The  first,  with  her  spiritualized,  angelic  face, 
appeared  the  incarnation  of  love,  motherly  tenderness,  and 
exaltation ;  the  other,  with  her  great  pensive  eyes,  yellow 
hair,  and  features  that  Avere  almost  too  delicate,  seemed 
rather  the  idea  of  an  artist  than  a  living  little  girl.  Bu- 
katski,  the  decadent,  said  that  she  was  formed  of  mist  made 
just  a  trifle  rosy  by  light.  Indeed,  there  was  something  in 
the  little  maiden,  as  it  were,  not  of  earth,  which  impression 
was  heightened  by  lier  illness  and  exceeding  sensitiveness. 
Her  mother  loved  her  blindly ;  those  who  surrounded  her 
loved  her  also;  but  attention  did  not  spoil  this  child,  ex- 
ceptionally sweet  by  nature. 


68  CHILDREN  or  THE  SOIL. 

Pan  Stanislav,  who  visited  Pani  Emilia  in  Warsaw  a 
number  of  times  every  week,  was  sincerely  attached  to  both 
mother  and  daughter.  In  a  city  where  woman's  reputation 
is  less  respected  than  anywhere  else  in  the  world,  scandal 
was  created  by  this,  without  the  least  cause,  of  course ;  for 
Pani  Emilia  was  as  pure  as  an  infant,  and  simply  carried  her 
exalted  head  in  the  sky  as  if  she  knew  not  that  evil  existed. 
She  was  even  so  pure  that  she  did  not  understand  the 
necessity  of  paying  attention  to  appearances.  She  received 
gladly  those  whom  Litka  loved ;  but  she  refused  a  number 
of  good  offers  of  marriage,  declaring  that  she  needed  nothing 
on  earth  except  Litka.  Bukatski  alone  insisted  that  Pani 
Emilia  acted  on  his  nerves.  Pan  Stanislav  adapted  him- 
self to  those  azure  heights  surrounding  that  crystal  woman, 
so  that  he  never  approached  her  with  a  thought  dimmed 
by  temptation. 

;N"ow  he  answered  with  simplicity  Vaskovski's  remark, — 

"In  truth,  they  both  seem  marvellous." 

And,  greeting  them,  he  repeated  more  or  less  the  same 
thing  to  Pani  Emilia,  as  something  that  in  the  given  case 
had  attracted  his  attention.  She  smiled  with  pleasure,  — 
likely  because  the  praise  included  Litka,  —  and,  gathering 
up  her  skirt  for  the  road,  she  said, — 

"  I  received  a  letter  to-day,  and  have  brought  it  to  you." 

"  May  I  read  it  right  away  ?  " 

"  You  may  ;  I  beg  you  to  do  so." 

They  set  out  by  the  forest  road  for  Thumsee,  —  Pani 
Emilia,  Vaskovski,  and  Litka  in  advance.  Pan  Stanislav  a 
little  behind  them,  his  head  bent  over  the  letter,  which  was 
as  follows :  — 

My  pear  Emilka,  —  To-day  I  have  received  thy  litany  of 
questions,  and  will  answer  at  once,  for  I  am  in  haste  to  shai-e  my 
thoughts  with  thee.  Pan  Stanislav  Polanyetski  went  from  here  on 
Monday;  hence,  two  days  ago.  The  first  evening  1  received  him  as 
I  receive  every  one,  and  nothing  whatever  came  to  my  head  ;  but  the 
next  day  was  Sunday.  I  had  time  to  spare ;  and  almost  the  entire  after- 
noon we  were  not  only  together,  but  alone,  for  papa  went  to  the  Ya- 
mishes.  "What  shall  I  say  ?  Such  a  sympathetic,  sincere,  and.  at  the 
same  time,  honest  man  !  From  what  he  said  of  Litka  and  of  thee,  I 
saw  at  once  that  he  has  a  good  heart.  We  walked  a  long  time  by  the 
pond  in  the  garden.  I  bound  up  his  hand,  for  he  cut  himself  with 
the  boat.  He  spoke  so  wisely  that  I  forgot  myself  in  listening  to 
his  words.  Ah,  my  Emilka,  I  am  ashamed  to  confess  it,  but  my 
poor  head  was  turned  a  little  by  that  evening.  Thou  knowest,  more- 
over, how  alone  I  am  and  overworked,  and  how  rarely  I  see  men 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  69 

like  him.  It  seemed  to  me  that  a  j^uest  had  come  from  another 
world,  and  a  better  one.  He  not  only  pleased,  but  captivated  me 
with  his  heartiness,  so  that  I  could  not  sleep,  and  was  thinkinor  aK 
the  time  of  him.  It  is  true  that  in  the  morning  he  quarrelled  with 
papa,  and  even  I  received  a  little;  though  God  sees  how  much  I 
would  give  that  there  might  be  no  (juestion  of  that  kind  between  us. 
At  the  first  moment  it  touched  me  greatly ;  and  if  that  ugly  man  had 
known  how  much  I  cried  in  my  chamber,  he  would  have  pitied  me. 
But,  afterward,  I  thought  that  he  nuist  be  very  sensitive;  that 
papa  was  not  right;  and  I  am  not  angry  now.  I  will  say,  also,  in 
thy  ear,  that  a  certain  voice  whispers  to  me  continually  that  he  will 
not  sell  to  any  one  the  claim  which  he  has  on  Kremen,  if  only  to  be 
able  to  come  here  again.  That  he  parted  in  such  anger  with  papa 
is  nothing.  l'aj)a  himself  does  not  take  it  to  heart ;  for  those  are 
his  ways,  not  his  convictions  or  feelings.  Pan  Staiiislav  has  in  me  a 
true  friend,  who,  after  the  sale  of  Magyerovka,  will  do  everything  to 
end  all  causes  of  misunderstanding,  and  in  general  all  tho?e  nasty 
money  (juestions.  He  will  have  to  come  then,  even  to  take  what 
belongs  to  him,  —  is  it  not  true?  It  may  be  also  that  I  please  him  a 
little.  That  a  man  as  quick  as  he  is  should  say  something  bitter 
gives  no  cause  for  wonder.  Speak  not  of  this  when  thou  seest  him, 
and  do  not  scold  him ;  God  keep  thee  from  that.  1  know  not  why 
I  feel  a  certain  confidence  that  he  will  do  no  injustice  to  me,  or  papa, 
or  my  belovetl  Kremen;  and  I  think  it  would  be  well  in  the  world  if 
all  were  like  him. 

My  dear,  I  embrace  thee  and  Litka  most  heartily.  Write  to 
me  of  her  health  minutely,  and  love  me  as  I  do  thee. 

When  he  had  finished  reading,  Pan  Stanislav  put  the 
letter  in  the  side-pocket  of  his  coat,  which  he  buttoned. 
Then  he  pushed  his  hat  down  to  the  back  of  his  head,  and 
felt  a  certain  intense  desire  to  break  his  cane  into  small 
bits  and  throw  them  into  the  river:  he  did  not  do  this, 
however;  he  only  began  to  mutter,  while  gritting  his 
teeth, — 

"  Yes  ;  very  well.  Thou  knowest  Polanyetski !  Be  con- 
fident that  he  will  not  injure  thee  1  Thou  wilt  come  out  in 
safety." 

Then  he  addressed  himself  as  follows,  — 

"Thou  hast  thy  deserts;  for  she  is  an  angel,  and  thou 
art  not  worthy  of  her."  And  again  a  desire  seized  him  to 
break  his  cane  into  bits.  Now  he  saw  clearly  that  the  soul 
of  that  maiden  had  been  ready  to  give  itself  with  all  faith  and 
trust  to  him  ;  and  he  prepared  for  her  one  of  those  painful 
and  wounding  disillusions,  the  memory  of  which,  fixed 
once  and  forever,  pains  eternally.  To  sell  the  claim  was 
nothing ;  but  to  sell  it  to  a  man  wishing  to  buy  it  with  the 


70  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

intention  which  Mashko  had,  was  to  say  to  the  woman,  "  I  do 
not  want  thee  ;  marry  him,  if  it  please  thee."  What  a  bitter 
disillusion  for  her,  after  all  that  he  had  said  to  her  on  that 
Sunday,  — after  those  words  friendly,  open,  and  at  the  same 
time  intended  to  enter  her  heart !  They  were  chosen  for 
that  purpose,  and  he  felt  that  she  had  taken  them  in  that 
sense.  He  might  repeat  as  often  as  he  pleased  that  they 
bound  him  to  nothing;  that  in  the, first  meeting  and  in  the 
first  conversation  which  a  man  has  with  a  woman,  he 
merely  pushes  out  horns,  like  a  snail,  and  tries  the  ground 
to  which  he  has  come.  That  would  be  no  consolation  to 
him  now.  Besides,  he  was  not  merely  not  iu  humor  for 
self-justification,  but  wished  rather  to  give  himself  a  slap 
on  the  face.  He  saw  for  the  first  time  so  definitely  that  he 
might  have  received  Marynia's  heart  and  hand;  and  the 
more  real  that  possibility  was  to  him,  the  more  the  loss 
seemed  irreparable.  Moreover,  from  the  moment  of  read- 
ing that  letter,  a  new  change  appeared  in  him.  His  own 
reasoning  that  now  he  ought  to  let  Marynia  go,  seemed 
pitiful  and  paltry.  With  all  his  faults.  Pan  Stanislav  had 
a  grateful  heart;  and  that  letter  moved  him  to  a  high 
degree,  by  the  kindness  and  understanding,  by  the  readiness 
to  love,  which  were  revealed  in  it.  Hence  the  remem- 
brance of  Marynia  became  rosy  in  his  heart  and  mind  all 
at  once,  —  became  rosy  even  with  such  power  that  he 
thought,  — 

"  As  God  is  in  heaven,  I  shall  fall  in  love  with  her  now  !  " 
And  such  a  tenderness  seized  him  that  in  presence  of  it 
even  anger  at  himself  had  to  yield.  He  joined  the  company 
after  a  while,  and,  pushing  forward  a  little  with  Pani  Emilia, 
said, — 

"  Give  me  this  letter." 

"With  the  greatest  pleasure.  Such  an  honest  letter, 
is  it  not  ?  And  you  did  not  confess  to  me  that  she 
suffered  somewhat  at  parting;  but  I  will  not  reprove, 
since  she  herself  takes  you  under  her  protection." 

"  If  it  would  help,  I  would  beg  you  to  beat  me ;  but 
there  is  nothing  to  be  said,  for  those  are  things  incui-able," 

Pani  Emilia  did  not  share  this  opinion  ;  on  the  contrary, 
seeing  Pan  Stanislav's  emotion,  she  felt  sure  that  an  affair 
in  which  both  sides  had  such  vivid  feelings  was  in  the 
best  state  and  must  end  satisfactorily.  At  that  very 
thought  her  sweet   face  became  radiant. 

"  We  shall  see  after  some  months,"  said  she. 


CHILDREN  OF  THE   SOIL.  71 

"  You  do  not  even  divine  what  we  may  see,"  said  Pan 
Stanislav,  thinking  of  Mashko. 

"  Kemember,"  continued  Pani  Emilia,  "  that  he  who 
once  wins  Marynia's  heart  will  never  be  disappointed." 

''  I  am  certain  of  that,"  answered  he,  gloomily ;  "  but  also 
such  hearts,  when  once  wounded,  do  not  return  again," 

They  could  not  speak  further,  for  Litka  and  Pan  Vaskovski 
caught  up  with  them.  After  a  while  the  little  girl  took  Pan 
Stanislav,  as  usual,  for  her  own  exclusive  property.  The 
forest,  sunk  in  the  mild  morning  light  of  a  fair  day,  occu- 
pied her  uncommonly;  she  began  to  inquire  about  various 
trees  ;  every  little  while  she  cried  out  with  pleasure,  — 

"  Mushrooms  !  " 

But  he  answered  mechanically,  thinking  of  something 
else,  — 

"  Mushrooms,  kitten,  mushrooms.'^ 

At  last  the  road  descended,  and  they  beheld  Thumsee 
under  their  feet.  In  the  course  of  half  an  hour  they  came 
down  to  a  beaten  path,  stretching  along  the  shore,  on 
which  were  visible  here  and  there  wooden  foot-piers,  ex- 
tending a  few  yards  into  the  lake.  Litka  wished  to  look 
from  near  by  at  big  fish  which  were  visible  in  the  clear 
water.  Pan  Stanislav,  taking  her  by  the  hand,  led  her  out 
on  to  one  of  the  piers. 

The  fish,  accustomed  to  crumbs  thrown  by  visitors,  in- 
stead of  fleeing,  approached  still  nearer,  and  soon  a  whole 
circle  surrounded  Litka's  feet.  In  the  blue  water  were 
visible  the  golden-brown  backs  of  the  carp,  and  the  gray 
spotted  scales  of  the  salmon  trout,  while  the  round  eyes  of 
these  creatures  were  fixed  on  the  little  girl  as  if  with  an 
expression  of  entreaty. 

"  Coming  back,  we  will  bring  lots  of  bread,"  said  Litka. 
"How  strangely  they  look  at  us!  What  are  they  think- 
ing of  ?" 

"They  are  thinking  very  slowly,"  said  Pan  Stanislav; 
'•'and  only  after  an  hour  or  two  will  they  say  :  'Ah  !  here 
is  some  little  girl  with  yellow  hair  and  rosy  dress  and 
black  stockings.' " 

"  And  what  will  they  think  of  Pan  Stas  ?  " 

"  They  will  think  that  I  am  some  gypsy,  for  I  have  not 
yellow  hair." 

"  No.     Gypsies  have  no  houses." 

"  And  I  have  no  house,  Litka.  I  had  the  chance  of  one, 
but  I  sold  it." 


72  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

He  uttered  this  last  phrase  in  a  certain  unusual  manner, 
and  in  general  there  was  sadness  in  his  voice.  The  little 
girl  looked  at  him  carefully ;  and  all  at  once  her  sensitive 
face  reiiected  his  sadness,  just  as  that  water  reflected  her 
form.  When  they  joined  the  rest  of  the  company,  from 
time  to  time  she  raised  her  sad  eyes  with  an  inquiring 
and  disturbed  expression.  At  last,  pressing  more  firmly 
his  hand,  which  she  held,  she  asked,  — 

"  What  troubles  Pan  Stas  ?  " 

"Notliing,  little  child ;  I  am  looking  around  at  the  lake, 
and  that  is  why  I  do  not  talk." 

"I  was  pleasing  myself  yesterday,  thinking  to  show 
Pan  Stas  Thumsee." 

"Thoiigh  there  are  no  rocks  here,  it  is  very  beautiful. 
But  what  house  is  that  on  the  other  side  ?  " 

"  We  will  take  dinner  there." 

Pani  Emilia  was  talking  merrily  with  Vaskovski,  who, 
carrying  his  hat  in  his  hand,  and  seeking  in  his  pockets 
for  a  handkerchief  to  wipe  his  bald  head,  gave  his  opinions 
about  Bukatski,  — 

"He  is  an  Aryan,"  concluded  he  ;  "  and  therefore  in  con- 
tinual unrest,  he  is  seeking  peace.  He  is  buying  pictures 
and  engravings  at  present,  thinking  that  thus  he  will  fill 
a  void.  But  what  do  I  see  ?  This,  those  children  of  the 
century  bear  in  their  souls  an  abyss  like  this  lake,  for 
example ;  besides,  the  abyss  in  them  is  bottomless,  and 
they  think  to  fill  it  with  pictures,  strong  waters,  amateur- 
ship,  dilettantism,  Baudelaire,  Ibsen,  Maeterlinck,  finally 
dilettante  science.  Poor  birds,  they  are  beating  their 
heads  against  the  sides  of  their  cages !  It  is  just  as  if  I 
tried  to  fill  this  lake  by  throwing  in  a  pebble." 

"And  what  can  fill  life  ?" 

"  Every  sincere  idea,  all  great  feelings,  but  only  on 
condition  that  they  begin  in  Christ.  Had  Bukatski  loved 
art  in  the  Christian  way,  it  would  have  given  him  the 
peace  which  he  is  forced  to  seek." 

"  Have  you  told  him  that  ?  " 

"  Yes,  that  and  many  other  things.  I  urge  him  and  Pan 
Stanislav  always  to  read  the  Life  of  Saint  Francis  of 
Assisi.  They  are  not  willing  to  do  so,  and  laugh  at  me. 
Yet  he  was  the  greatest  man  and  the  greatest  saint  of  the 
Middle  Ages,  —  a  saint  who  renewed  the  world.  If  such  a 
man  were  to  come  now,  a  renewal  in  Christ  would  follow, 
still  more  sincerely  and  with  greater  completeness." 


CHILDREN  OF  THE   SOIL.  73 

Midday  approached,  and  with  it  heat.  The  forest  began 
to  have  the  odor  of  resin  ;  the  lake  became  perfectly  smooth 
in  the  calm  air  full  of  glitter,  and,  while  reflecting  the 
spotless  blue  of  the  sky,  seemed  to  slumber. 

At  last  they  reached  the  house  and  the  garden,  in  which 
there  was  a  restaurant,  and  sat  under  a  beech-tree  at  a 
table  already  laid.  Pan  Stanislav  called  a  waiter  in  a 
soiled  coat,  ordered  dinner,  then  looked  about  silently  at 
the  lake  and  the  mountains  around  it.  A  couple  of  yards 
from  the  table  grew  a  whole  bunch  of  iris,  moistened  by  a 
fountain  fixed  among  stones.  Fani  Emilia,  looking  at  the 
flowers,  said,  — 

*'  When  I  am  at  a  lake  and  see  irises,  I  think  that  I  am 
in  Italy." 

"  For  nowhere  else  are  there  so  many  lakes  or  so  many 
irises,"  answered  Pan  Stanislav. 

"  Or  so  much  delight  for  every  man,"  added  Vaskovski. 
"  For  many  years  I  go  there  in  the  autumn  to  flnd  a  refuge 
for  the  last  days.  I  hesitated  long  between  Perugia  and 
Assisi,  but  last  year  Rome  gained  the  day.  Rome  seems 
the  anteroom  to  another  life,  in  which  anteroom  light 
from  the  next  world  is  visible  already.  I  will  go  there 
in  October." 

"  I  envy  you  sincerely,"  said  Pani  Emilia. 

"  Litka  is  twelve  years  old,"  began  Vaskovski. 

"And  three  months,"  interrupted  Litka. 

"And  three  months:  therefore  for  her  age  she  is  very 
small  and  a  great  little  giddy-head ;  it  is  time  to  show  her 
various  things  in  Home,"  continued  Vaskovski.  "Nothing 
is  so  remembered  as  that  which  is  seen  in  childhood.  And 
though  childhood  does  not  feel  many  things  completely, 
nor  understand  them,  that  comes  later,  and  comes  very 
agreeably,  for  it  is  as  if  some  one  were  to  illuminate  on  a 
sudden  impressions  sunk  in  shadow.  Come  with  me  to 
Italy  in  October." 

"  In  October  I  cannot ;  I  have  my  woman's  reasons,  which 
detain  me  in  Warsaw." 

"  What  are  they  ?  " 

Pani  Emilia  began  to  laugh. 

"  The  first  and  most  important,  but  purely  womanly,  rea- 
son, is  to  marry  that  gentleman  sitting  there  so  gloomy," 
said  she,  pointing  to  Pan  Stanislav,  "but  really  so  much  in 
love." 

He  woke  from  thoughtfulness,  and  waved  his  hand.  But 
Vaskovski  inquired  with  his  usual  naivete  of  a  child,  — 


74  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

"  Always  with  Marynia  Plavitski  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  replied  Pani  Emilia.  "  He  has  been  in  Kremen, 
and  it  would  be  vain  for  him  to  deny  that  she  took  his 
heart  greafly." 

<*  I  cannot  deny,"  answered  Pan  Stanislav. 

But  further  conversation  was  interrupted  in  an  unpleas- 
ant manner,  for  Litka  grew  weak  on  a  sudden.  In  a  mo- 
ment she  was  choking,  and  had  oue  of  her  attacks  of 
palpitation  of  the  heart,  which  alarmed  even  doctors.  The 
mother  seized  her  at  once  in  her  arms ;  Pan  Stanislav  ran 
to  the  restaurant  for  ice  ;  Vaskovski  began  to 'draw  the  gar- 
den bench  with  effort  toward  the  table,  so  that  she  might 
stretcK  on  it  and  breathe  with  more  freedom. 

"  Thou  art  wearied,  my  child,  art  thou  not  ?  "  asked  Pani 
Emilia,  with  pale  lips.  "See,  my  love,  it  was  too  far 
—  Still  the  doctor  permitted.  So  anxious!  But  this  is 
nothing  ;  it  will  pass,  it  will  pass !  My  treasure,  my  love !  " 
And  she  began  to  kiss  the  damp  face  of  the  little  girl. 

Meanwhile  Pan  Stanislav  came  with  ice,  and  after  him 
the  mistress  of  the  place  hurried  out  with  a  pillow  in  her 
hand.  They  laid  the  little  girl  on  the  bench,  and  while 
Pani  Emilia  was  wrapping  the  ice  in  a  napkin,  Pan  Stanis- 
lav bent  over  the  child  and  asked,  — 

"  How  art  thou,  kitten  ?  " 

"  I  was  only  choking  a  little  ;  but  I  am  better,"  answered 
she,  opening  her  mouth,  like  a  fish  to  catch  breath. 

She  was  not  much  better,  however,  for  even  through  her 
dress  bne  could  see  how  violently  the  little  sick  heart  was 
beating  in  her  breast.  But  under  the  influence  of  ice,  the 
attack  decreased  gradually,  and  at  last  ceased  altogethei', 
leaving  behind  only  weariness.  Litka  began  again  to  smile 
at  her  mother,  who  also  recovered  from  her  alarm  some- 
what. It  was  needful  to  strengthen  the  child  before  they 
returned  home.  Pan  Stanislav  ordered  dinner,  which  was 
scarcely  touched  by  any  one  except  Litka,  for  all  looked  at 
her  from  moment  to  moment  with  secret  fear  lest  the  chok- 
ing might  seize  her  a  second  time.  An  hour  passed  in  this 
way.  Guests  began  now  to  enter  the  restaurant.  Pani 
Emilia  wished  to  go  home,  but  she  had  to  wait  for  the  car- 
riage, which  Pan  Stanislav  had  sent  for  to  Reichenhall. 

The  carriage  came  at  last,  but  new  alarm  was  in  wait  for 
them.  On  the  road,  though  they  moved  at  a  walk  and  the 
road  was  very  smooth,  even  light  jolting  troubled  Litka,  so 
that  when  they  were  just  near  Eeichenhall,  a  choking  at- 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  76 

tacked  her  again.  She  begged  permission  to  get  out  of  the 
carriage ;  but  it  appeared  that  walking  wearied  her.  Then 
Pani  Euiilia  decided  to  carry  the  child.  But  Pan  Stan- 
islav,  anticipating  that  motherly  devotion,  which  moreover 
was  not  at  all  in  proportion  to  the  woman's  strength, 
said,  — 

"  Come,  Litus,  I  will  carry  thee.  If  not,  mamma  will 
weary  herself  and  be  sick." 

And  \vithout  asking  further,  he  lifted  her  lightly  from 
the  ground,  and  carried  her  with  perfect  ease  on  one  arm 
only  ;  to  assure  both  her  and  Pani  Emilia  that  it  did  not 
trouble  him  in  the  least,  he  said  playfully,  — 

"When  such  a  kitten  is  walking  on  the  ground,  she 
seems  not  at  all  heavy ;  but  now,  see  where  those  great 
feet  are  hanging.  Hold  on  by  my  neck;  thou  wilt  be 
steadier." 

And  he  went  on,  as  firmly  as  he  could,  and  quickly,  for 
he  wished  the  doctor  to  attend  her  as  soon  as  possible ;  as 
he  went,  he  felt  her  heart  beating  against  his  shoulder,  and 
she,  while  grasping  him  with  her  thin,  meagre  arms, 
repeated,  — 

"Let  me  down  ;  I  cannot  —     Let  me  down!  " 

But  he  said,  — 

"  I  will  not.  Thou  seest  how  bad  it  is  to  be  tired  out 
from  walking.  In  future  we  will  take  a  big  easy  armchair 
on  wheels ;  and  when  the  child  is  wearied,  we  will  seat  her 
in  it,  and  I  will  push  her." 

*'  No,  no  ! "  said  Litka,  with  tears  in  her  voice. 

He  carried  her  with  the  tenderness  of  an  elder  brother 
or  a  father ;  and  his  heart  was  overflowing :  first,  because 
really  he  loved  that  little  maid  ;  and  second,  because  this 
came  to  his  head  of  which  he  had  never  thought  before,  — 
or,  at  least,  had  never  felt  clearly,  —  that  marriage  opens 
the  way  to  fatherhood  and  to  all  its  treasures  of  happiness. 
While  carrying  that  little  girl,  who  Avas  dear  to  him, 
though  a  stranger,  he  understood  that  God  had  created  him 
for  a  family ;  not  only  to  be  a  husband,  but  a  father  ;  also 
that  the  main  object  and  meaning  of  life  were  found  sj)e- 
cially  in  the  family.  And  all  his  thoughts  flew  to  Marynia. 
He  felt  now  with  redoubled  force  that  of  women  whom  he 
had  met  so  far  he. would  have  chosen  her  for  a  wife  before 
all,  and  would  wish  her  to  be  the  mother  of  his  children. 


76  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 


CHAPTER  YII. 

During  some  days  that  succeeded  the  choking,  Litka 
was  not  ill,  but  she  felt  weak  ;  she  went  out,  however,  to 
walk,  because  the  doctor  not  only  ordered  her  to  go,  but  recom- 
mended very  urgently  moderate  exercise  up  hill.  Vaskov- 
ski  went  to  the  doctor  to  learn  the  condition  of  her  health. 
Pan  Stanislav  awaited  the  old  man's  return  in  the  reading- 
room,  and  knew  at  once  from  his  face  that  he  was  not  a 
bearer  of  good  tidings. 

"  The  doctor  sees  no  immediate  danger,"  said  Vaskovski ; 
"  but  he  condemns  tlie  child  to  an  early  death,  and  in  gen- 
eral gives  directions  to  watch  over  her,  for  it  is  impossible, 
he  says,  to  foresee  the  day  or  the  hour." 

"  What  a  misfortune,  what  a  blow  ! "  said  Pan  Stauislav, 
covering  his  eyes  with  his  hand.  ■"  Her  mother  will  not  be 
able  to  survive  her.  One  is  unwilling  to  believe  in  the 
death  of  such  a  child." 

Vaskovski  had  tears  in  his  eyes.  "  I  asked  whether  she 
must  suffer  greatly.  'Xot  necessarily,'  said  the  doctor; 
'she  may  die  as  easily  as  if  falling  asleep.' " 

"Did  he  tell  the  mother  anything  about  her  condition  ?  " 

"  He  did  not.  He  said,  it  is  true,  that  there  was  a  defect 
of  the  heart;  but  he  added  that  with  children  such  things 
often  disappear  without  a  trace.     He  has  no  hope  himself." 

Pan  Stanislav  did  not  yield  to  misfortune  easily. 

"  What  is  one  doctor!  "  said  he.  "  We  must  struggle  to 
save  the  child  while  there  is  a  spark  of  hope.  The  doctor 
may  be  mistaken.  We  must  take  her  to  a  specialist  at 
Monachium,  or  bring  him  here.  That  will  alarm  Pani 
Emilia,  but  it  is  difficult  to  avoid  it.  Wait;  we  can  avoid 
it.  I  will  bring  him,  and  that  immediately.  We  will  tell 
Pani  Emilia  that  such  and  such  a  celebrated  doctor  has 
come  here  to  see  some  one,  and  that  there  is  a  chance  of 
taking  counsel  concerning  Litka.  We  must  not  leave  the 
child  without  aid.  We  need  merely  to  write  to  him,  so 
that  he  may  know  how  to  talk  to  the  mother." 

"  But  to  whom  will  you  write  ?  " 

"  To  whom  ?  Do  I  know  ?  The  local  doctor  here  will  in- 
dicate a  specialist.  Let  us  go  to  him  at  once,  and  lose  no 
time." 


CHILDREN  OF  THE   SOIL.  77 

The  matter  was  arranged  that  verj  day.  In  the  evening 
the  two  men  went  to  Paul  Emilia.  Litka  was  well,  but 
silent  and  gloomy.  She  smiled,  it  is  true,  at  her  mother  aiul 
her  friend ;  she  showed  gratitude  for  the  tenderness  with 
which  they  surrounded  her;  but  Pan  Stauislav  had  not 
power  to  amuse  her.  Having  his  head  filled  with  thoughts 
of  the  danger  which  threatened  the  child,  he  considered  her 
gloom  a  sign  of  increasing  sickness  and  an  early  premoni- 
tion of  near  death,  and  with  terror  he  said  in  his  soul  that 
she  was  not  such  as  she  had  been ;  it  seemed  as  if  certain 
threads  binding  her  to  life  had  been  broken.  His  fear  in- 
creased still  more  when  Pani  Emilia  said,  — 

"  Litka  feels  well,  but  do  you  know  what  she  begged  of 
me  to-day  ?     To  go  back  to  Warsaw." 

Pan  Stanislav  with  an  effort  of  will  put  down  his  alarm, 
and,  turning  to  the  little  one,  said  while  feigning  joyful- 
ness,  — 

"  Ah,  thou  good-for-nothing !  Art  thou  not  sorry  for 
Thumsee  ?  " 

The  little  maid  shook  her  yellow  hair. 

"  No !  "  answered  she,  after  a  time,  and  in  her  eyes  tears 
appeared ;  but  she  covered  these  quickly  with  her  lids, 
lest  some  one  might  see  them, 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  her  ?  "  thought  Pan  Stanislav. 

A  very  simple  thing  was  the  matter.  In  Thumsee  she 
had  learned  that  her  friend,  her  "  Pan  Stas,"  her  dearest 
comrade,  was  to  be  taken  from  her.  She  had  heard  that  he 
loved  Marynia  Plavitski ;  until  then  she  had  felt  sure  that 
he  loved  only  her  and  mamma.  She  had  heard  that  mamma 
wanted  him  to  marry  Marynia;  but  up  to  that  time  she, 
Litka,  had  looked  on  him  as  her  own  exclusive  property. 
Without  knowing  clearly  what  threatened  her,  she  felt  that 
this  "Pan  Stas  "  would  go,  and  that  a  wrong  would  be  done 
her,  the  first  which  she  had  experienced  in  life.  She  would 
have  suffered  less  if  some  one  else  had  inflicted  the  wrong; 
but,  just  think,  her  mamma  and  "  Pan  Stas  "  were  wrong- 
ing her !  That  seemed  a  vicious  circle  out  of  which  the 
child  knew  not  how  to  escape  and  could  not.  How  could 
she  complain  to  them  of  what  they  were  doing!  Evi- 
dently they  wanted  this,  wished  it ;  it  was  necessary  for 
them,  and  thev  would  be  happy  if  it  happened.  Mamma 
said  that  "Pan  Stas"  loved  Panna  Marynia,  and  he  did 
not  deny  ;  therefore  Litka  must  yield,  must  swallow  her 
tears,  and  be  silent  in  presence  of  her  mamma  even. 


78  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

And  she  hid  in  herself  her  first  disappointment  in  life.  Yes, 
she  had  to  yield ;  but  because  grief  is  a  bad  medicine  for  a 
heart  sick  already,  this  yielding  might  be  more  thoroughly 
and  terribly  tragic  than  any  one  around  her  could  imagine. 

The  specialist  came  two  days  later  from  Monachium,  and 
remaining  two  days,  confirmed  fully  the  opinion  of  the 
doctor  in  Thumsee.  He  set  Pani  Emilia  at  rest,  though 
he  told  Fan  Stanislav  that  the  life  of  the  child  might  con- 
tinue months  and  years,  but  would  be  always  as  if  hanging 
on  a  thread  which  might  break  from  any  cause.  He  gave 
directions  to  spare  the  little  girl  every  emotion,  as  well  joy- 
ous as  sad,  and  to  watch  over  her  with  the  greatest  alertness. 

They  surrounded  her  therefore  with  care  and  attention. 
They  spared  her  even  the  slightest  emotion,  but  they  did 
not  spare  her  the  greatest,  which  was  caused  by  Marynia's 
letters.  The  echo  of  the  one  which  came  a  week  later  struck 
her  ears,  which  were  listening  then  diligently.  True,  it 
might  dispel  her  fears  touching  "  Pan  Stas,"  but  it  was  a 
great  shock  to  her.  Pani  Emilia  had  hesitated  all  day 
about  showing  Pan  Stanislav  that  letter.  He  had  been 
asking  daily  for  news  from  Kremen ;  she  had  to  lie  simply 
to  conceal  the  arrival  of  the  letter.  Finally,  she  felt  bound 
to  tell  the  truth,  so  that  he  might  know  the  difficulties 
which  he  had  to  encounter. 

The  next  evening  after  receiving  the  letter,  when  she 
had  put  Litka  to  sleep,  she  began  conversation  herself  on 
this  subject. 

"  Marynia  has  taken  it  greatly  to  heart  that  you  sold  the 
claim  on  Kremen." 

"  Then  you  have  received  a  letter  ?  " 

"  I  have." 

"  Can  you  show  it  to  me  ?  " 

"  Xo  ;  I  can  only  read  you  extracts  from  it.  Marynia  is 
crushed." 

"  Does  she  know  that  I  am  here  ?  " 

"  It  must  be  that  she  has  not  received  my  letter  yet ;  but 
it  astonishes  me  that  Pan  Mashko,  who  is  in  Kremen,  has 
not  mentioned  it  to  her." 

"  ISIashko  went  to  Kremen  before  I  left  Warsaw  ;  and  he 
was  not  sure  that  I  would  come  here,  especially  as  I  told 
him  that  doubtless  I  should  change  my  plan." 

Pani  Emilia  went  to  her  bureau  for  the  package  of 
letters.  Returning  to  the  table,  she  trimmed  the  lamp,  and, 
sitting  opposite  Pan  Stanislav,  took  the  letter  from  the 
envelope. 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  79 

*'  You  see,"  said  she,  "  that  for  Marynia  it  is  not  a  qtifts- 
tion  of  the  sale  alone.  You  know  that  her  head  was  a 
little  imaginative,  therefore  this  sale  had  for  her  another 
meaning.     A  great  disenchantment  has  met  her  indeed ! " 

"  I  should  not  confess  to  any  other  person,"  said  Pan 
Stanislav,  "  but  I  will  to  you.  I  have  committed  one  of 
the  greatest  follies  of  my  life,  but  I  have  never  been  so 
punished." 

Pani  Emilia  raised  her  pale  blue  eyes  to  him  with 
sympathy. 

*'  Poor  man,  are  you  so  captivated,  then,  by  Marynia  ?  I  do 
not  ask  through  curiosity,  but  friendship,  for  I  should  like 
to  mend  everything,  but  wish  to  be  certain." 

"  Do  you  know  what  conquered  me  ?  "  broke  in  Pan  Stan- 
islav, excitedly,  —  "  that  first  letter.  In  Kremen  she  pleased 
me ;  I  began  to  think  about  her.  I  said  to  myself  that  she 
would  be  more  agreeable  and  better  than  others.  She  is 
such  precisely  as  I  have  been  seeking.  But  what  next  ? 
Long  before,  I  had  said  to  myself  that  I  would  not  be  a 
soft  man,  and  yield  what  belongs  to  me.  You  understand 
that  when  a  man  makes  a  principle  of  anything,  he  holds 
to  it  even  for  pride's  sake.  Besides,  in  each  one  of  us  there 
are,  as  it  were,  two  distinct  persons;  the  second  of  these 
criticises  whatever  is  done  by  the  first  one.  This  second 
man  began  to  say  to  me  :  '  Drop  this  affair ;  you  cannot  live 
with  the  father. '  In  truth,  he  is  unendurable.  I  resolved 
to  drop  the  affair.  I  got  rid  of  the  claim.  That  is  how  it 
happened.  Only  later  did  I  find  that  I  could  not  dismiss 
the  thought  of  Panna  Plavitski;  I  had  always  this  same 
impression  :  '  She  is  such  as  thou  art  seeking.'  I  saw  that 
I  had  committed  a  folly,  and  was  sorry.  When  that  letter 
came,  and  I  convinced  myself  that  on  her  side  there  was 
a  feeling  that  she  could  love  me  and  be  mine,  I  loved  her. 
And  I  give  you  my  word  that  either  I  am  losing  my  head, 
or  this  is  true.  It  is  nothing  while  a  man  is  fancying 
something ;  but  when  he  sees  that  there  were  open  arms 
before  him,  what  a  difference  !  That  letter  conquered  me ; 
I  cannot  help  myself." 

"I  prefer  not  to  read  you  all  this  letter,"  said  Pani 
Emilia,  after  a  while.  "  Naturally  she  writes  that  the  brief 
dream  ended  by  an  awakening  more  sudden  than  she  had 
looked  for.  She  writes  that  Pan  Mashko  is  very  considerate 
in  money  questions,  though  he  wishes  them  to  turn  to  his 
profit." 


80  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOiL. 

"  She  will  marry  him,  as  God  is  in  heaven  ! " 

"  You  do  not  know  her.  But  of  Kremen  she  writes : 
'Papa  has  a  wish  to  dispose  of  his  property,  and  settle  in 
Warsaw.  Thou  knowest  how  I  love  Kremen,  how  I  grew 
up  with  it ;  but  in  view  of  what  has  happened,  I  doubt 
whether  my  work  can  be  of  service.  I  shall  make  one 
more  struggle  to  defend  the  dear  bit  of  land.  Still  papa 
says  that  his  conscience  will  not  let  him  imprison  me  in 
the  country,  and  this  is  all  the  more  bitter,  since  it  is  as  if 
I  were  the  question.  Indeed,  life  seems  at  times  to  be 
touching  on  irony.  Pan  Mashko  offers  papa  three  thou- 
sand life  annuity,  and  the  whole  amount  for  the  parcelling 
of  ]Magyerovka.  I  do  not  wonder  that  he  seeks  his  own 
profit,  but  through  such  a  bargain  he  would  get  the  property 
for  almost  nothing.  Papa  himself  said  to  him,  "In  this 
way,  if  I  live  one  year  I  shall  get  from  Kremen  three  thou- 
sand, for  Magyerovka  is  mine  an3-how."  Pan  Mashko 
answered  that  in  the  present  state  of  affairs  the  creditors 
would  take  the  money  for  Magyerovka;  but  if  papa  agrees 
to  the  conditions  proposed  he  will  receive  ready  money  and 
may  live  thirty  years,  perhaps  longer.  "Which  is  true  also. 
I  know  that  this  project  pleases  paj)a  in  principle ;  the  only 
question  with  him  is  to  get  as  much  as  he  can.  In  all  this 
there  is  one  consolation,  —  that  if  we  live  in  Wai-saw,  I  shall 
see  thee,  dear  Emilia,  and  Litka  oftener.  Sincerely  and 
from  my  whole  soul  do  I  love  you  both,  and  know  that  on 
your  hearts  at  least  I  can  count  always.'  " 

"  So  then  I  deprived  her  of  Kremen,  but  sent  her  a 
suitor,"  said  Pan  Stanislav,  after  a  moment  of  silence. 

While  saying  this,  he  did  not  know  that  Marynia  had  put 
almost  the  same  words  into  the  letter.  Pani  Emilia  had 
omitted  them  purposely,  not  wishing  to  wound  him. 

During  the  last  visit  of  the  Plavitskis  in  Warsaw,  ]\[ashko 
had  made  some  advances  for  the  hand  of  Marynia ;  she  had 
no  heed,  therefore,  of  great  keenness  to  divine  his  reason  for 
buying  the  claim  and  coming  to  Kremen.  Just  in  this  was 
the  bitterness  that  filled  her  heart,  and  the  deep  offence 
which  she  felt  that  Polanyetski  had  inflicted  on  her. 

"  It  is  absolutely  needful  to  explain  all  this,"  said  Pani 
Emilia. 

"  I  have  sent  her  a  suitor! "  repeated  Pan  Stanislav.  "  I 
cannot  even  make  the  excuse  that  I  did  not  know  of 
Mashko's  designs." 

Pani  Emilia  turned  Marynia's  letter  in  her  delicate 
fingers  some  time,  and  then  said  suddenly,  — 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  81 

"It  cannot  rest  this  way.  I  wanted  to  unite  you  with 
her  because  of  my  friendship  for  both  of  you,  but  now  there 
is  a  motive  the  more  ;  to  wit,  your  suffering.  It  would  be  a 
reproach  for  me  to  leave  you  as  you  are,  and  I  cannot.  Do 
not  lose  hope.  There  is  a  pretty  French  proverb,  and  a 
very  ugly  Polish  one,about  woman's  strength  and  will.  In 
truth,  I  wish  greatly  to  help  you." 

Fan  Stanislav  seized  her  hand  and  raised  it  to  his  lips. 

*•'  You  are  the  best  and  most  honorable  person  that  I  have 
met  in  the  world." 

"  I  have  been  very  happy,"  answered  Fani  Emilia ;  "  and 
since  I  think  that  there  is  only  one  road  to  happiness,  I 
wish  those  who  are  near  me  to  go  by  it." 

"  You  are  right.  That  road,  or  none  !  Since  I  have  life, 
I  wish  that  life  to  be  of  use  to  some  one  else  and  to  me." 

"As  to  me,"  said  Fani  Emilia,  laughing,  "since  I  have 
undertaken  the  role  of  matchmaker  for  the  first  time  in 
life,  I  wish  to  be  of  service.  But  it  is  necessary  to  think 
what  must  be  done  now." 

Saying  this,  she  raised  her  eyes.  The  light  of  the- lamp 
fell  directly  on  her  delicate  face,  which  was  still  very 
youthful ;  on  her  light  haii',  which  was  somewhat  disarranged 
above  her  forehead.  There  was  somethingin  her  so  bewitching 
and  at  the  same  time  so  virginal  that  Fan  Stanislav,  though 
he  had  a  head  occupied  with  other  things,  recalled  the 
name,  "  maiden  widow,"  which  Bukatski  had  given  her. 

"  Marynia  is  very  candid,"  said  she,  after  a  moment's 
thought,  "and  will  understand  better  if  I  write  the  pure 
truth  to  her.  I  will  tell  her  what  you  told  me  :  that  you 
went  away  much  pleased  with  her ;  that  what  you  have  done 
was  done  without  reckoning  with  yourself,  purely  under  tlie 
influence  of  the  thought  that  you  could  not  come  to  an 
agreement  with  her  father ;  but  at  present  you  regret  this 
most  sincerely,  you  beg  her  not  to  take  it  ill,  and  not  to 
take  away  the  hope  that  she  will  yield  to  entreaty." 

"  And  I  will  write  to  Mashko  that  I  will  purchase  the 
debt  of  him  at  whatever  profit  he  likes." 

"  See,"  said  Fani  Emilia,  smiling,  "that  sober,  calculating 
Fan  Stanislav,  who  boasts  that  he  has  freed  himself  from 
the  Folish  character  and  from  Folish  fickleness." 

"Yes,  yes!"  cried  Fan  Stanislav,  with  a  more  joyous 
tone.  "  Calculation  consists  in  this,  to  spare  nothing  on  an 
object  that  is  worth  it."  At  that  moment,  however,  he  grew 
gloomy  and  said,  "  But  if  she  answers  tliat  she  is  Mashko's 
betrothed  ?  "  6 


82  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

"  I  will  not  admit  that.  Pan  Mashko  may  be  the  most 
honorable  of  men,  but  he  is  not  for  her.  She  will  not  marry 
without  affection.  1  know  that  Mashko  did  not  please  her 
at  all.  That  will  never  take  place  ;  you  do  not  know 
Marynia.  Only  do,  on  your  part,  what  you  can,  and  be  at  rest 
as  to  Mashko.' 

"  Then,  instead  of  writing,  I  will  telegraph  to  him  to-day. 
He  cannot  stop  in  Kremen  long  at  one  time,  and  must  re- 
ceive my  despatch  in  Warsaw." 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  83 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

Mashko's  answer,  which  Pari  Stanislav  received  two  days 
later,  was,  "  I  bought  Kremen  yesterday." 

Though  it  might  have  been  foreseen  from  Marynia's 
letter  that  affairs  woiild  take  this  and  no  otlier  turn,  and 
the  young  man  was  bound  to  be  prepared  for  it,  the  news 
produced  the  impression  of  a  thunder-clap.  It  seemed  to 
him  that  a  misfortune  had  happened,  as  sudden  as  it  was 
incurable,  —  a  misfortune  for  which  the  whole  responsibility 
fell  on  him.  Pani  Emilia,  knowing  better  than  anyone  else 
Marynia's  attachment  to  Kremen,  had  also  a  presentiment 
which  she  could  not  conceal,  that  by  this  sale  the  difficulty 
of  bringing  these  two  young  people  nearer  each  other  would 
be  increased  greatly. 

"  If  Mashko  does  not  marry  Marynia,"  said  Pan  Stan- 
islav, "  he  will  strip  old  Plavitski  in  such  fashion  as  to  save 
himself  and  leave  the  old  man  without  a  copper.  If  I  had 
sold  my  claim  to  the  first  usurer  I  met,  Plavitski  would 
have  wriggled  out,  paid  something,  promised  more;  and 
the  ruin  of  Kremen  would  have  been  deferred  for  whole 
years,  in  the  course  of  which  something  favorable  might 
have  happened  ;  in  every  case  there  would  have  been  time  to 
sell  Kremen  on  satisfactory  conditions.  Now,  if  they  are 
left  without  a  copper,  the  fault  will  be  mine." 

But  Pani  Emilia  looked  on  the  affair  from  another  side : 
"The  evil  is  not  in  this  alone,"  said  she,  "that  Kremen 
is  sold.  You  have  caused  this  sale,  and  that  immediately 
after  seeing  Marynia.  If  some  one  else  had  done  so,  the  affair 
would  not  have  such  a  significance';  but  the  worst  is  just 
this,  that  Marynia  was  greatly  confident  that  you  would  not 
act  thus." 

Pan  Stanislav  felt  this  as  vividly  as  she ;  and  since  he  was 
accustomed  to  give  himself  a  clear  account  of  evei-y  position, 
he  understood  also  that  Marynia  was  the  same  as  lost  to 
him.  In  view  of  this,  one  thing  remained,  —  to  acknowledge 
the  fact  and  seek  another  wife.  But  Pan  Stanislav's 
whole  soul  revolted  against  this.  First,  his  feeling  for 
Mar3-nia,  though  sudden,  strengthened  neither  by  time  nor 
nearer  acquaintance,  though  resting  mainly  on  the  charm, 


84  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

almost  exclusively  physical,  which  her  form  had  wrought 
on  him,  had  grown  considerably  in  recent  days.  Her  letter 
effected  this,  and  the  conviction  that  he  had  inflicted  a 
wrong  on  her.  Compassion  for  her  seized  him  now,  and  he 
could  not  think  of  her  without  emotion ;  in  consequence  of 
this,  the  feeling  itself  increased  through  two  causes,  which 
play  a  very  important  role  in  each  masculine  heart.  First, 
that  energetic,  muscular  man  could  never  yield  passively  to 
tlie  course  of  events.  His  nature  simply  could  not  endure 
this.  The  sight  of  difficulty  roused  him  to  action  particu- 
larly. Finally,  his  self-love  also  was  opposed  to  letting 
Marynia  go.  The  thought  which  he  must  acknowledge 
to  himself  sometimes,  —  that  he  was  only  a  springe  in  the 
hand  of  that  Mashko  and  one  of  the  means  to  his  objects  ; 
that  he  had  let  himself  be  abused,  or  at  least  used  by  the 
advocate,  —  filled  him  with  rage.  Though  Mashko  should 
not  receive  Marynia's  hand,  though  the  affair  should  end 
with  Kremen,  even  that  was  more  than  Pan  Stanislav  could 
suffer.  Now  an  irrestrainable  desire  seized  him  to  go  and 
take  the  field  against  Mashko,  to  throw  a  stone  under  his 
feet,  to  cross  his  further  plans,  at  least,  and  show  him  that 
his  keenness  of  an  advocate  was  not  enough  in  a  meeting 
with  real  manly  energy.  All  these,  as  well  as  the  more 
noble  motives,  urged  Pan  Stanislav  with  irresistible  force 
to  undertake  something,  to  do  something.  Meanwhile  the 
position  was  such  that  there  remained  well-nigh  nothing 
to  do.  Precisely  in  this  contradiction  was  hidden  the 
tragedy.  To  remain  in  Keichenhall,  let  Mashko  carry  out 
his  plans,  extend  his  nets,  work  for  the  hand  of  Panna 
Plavitski  —  no  !  not  for  anything  !  But  what  was  he  to 
do  ?  To  this  last  question  there  was  no  answer.  For  the 
first  time  in  life  Pan  Stanislav  felt  as  if  he  were  chained ; 
and  the  less  he  was  accustomed  to  such  a  position,  the  more 
did  he  bear  it  with  difficulty.  He  learned  too,  for  the  first 
time,  what  sleeplessness  means,  what  excited  nerves  are. 
Since  Litka,  during  the  days  just  preceding,  felt  worse  again, 
there  hung  over  the  whole  society  a  leaden  atmosphere  in 
which  life  was  becoming  unendurable. 

After  a  week  another  letter  came  from  Marynia.  This 
time  there  was  no  mention  either  of  Pan  Stanislav  or 
Mashko.  Marynia  wrote  only  about  the  sale  of  Kremen, 
without  complaint,  and  without  explanation  of  how  the 
affair  had  taken  place.  But  froni  this  alone  he  might  infer 
how  deeply  the  sale  had  wounded  her. 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  85 

It  would  have  pleased  Pan  Stanislav  more  had  she  com- 
plained.  He  understood  clearly,  too,  that  silence  in  the  letter 
touching  hiin  showed  how  far  he  had  been  excluded  from 
the  heart  of  that  lady,  while  silence  touching  Mashko  might 
show  directly  the  opposite.  Finally,  if  she  valued  that 
Kremen  so  much,  she  might  return  to  it  by  giving  her  hand 
to  its  present  owner  ;  perhaps  she  had  become  reconciled  by 
that  thought.  Old  Flavitski  had  his  prejudices  of  a  noble, 
it  is  true,  and  Pan  Stanislav  counted  on  them  ;  but,  con- 
sidering the  man  as  an  egotist  above  all,  he  admitted  that 
in  the  present  case  he  would  sacrifice  his  daughter  and  his 
prejudices. 

In  the  end  of  ends,  to  remain  with  folded  arms  at  Reich- 
enhall,  and  wait  for  news  as  to  whether  Pan  Mashko  would 
be  pleased  to  olfer  his  hand  to  Panna  Plavitski,  became  for 
Pan  Stanislav  simply  impossible.  Litka,  too,  from  time  to 
time  begged  her  mother  to  return  to  Warsaw.  Pan  Stanislav 
determined,  therefore,  to  return,  all  the  more  as  the  time 
was  approaching  when  he  and  Bigiel  had  to  begin  a  new 
affair. 

This  decision  brought  him  great  solace  at  once.  He 
would  return ;  he  would  examine  the  position  with  his  own 
eyes,  and  perhaps  undertake  something.  In  every  case  it 
would  be  better  than  sitting  at  Eeichenhall.  Both  Pani 
Emilia  and  Litka  heard  the  news  of  his  departure  without 
surprise.  They  knew  that  he  had  come  only  for  a  few 
weeks,  and  they  hoped  to  see  him  soon  in  Warsaw.  Pani 
Emilia  was  to  go  in  the  middle  of  August.  For  the  rest  of 
the  month  she  decided  to  remain  with  Vaskovski  in  Salz- 
burg, and  return  then  to  Warsaw.  Meanwhile  she  promised 
to  inform  Pan  Stanislav  of  Litka's  health  frequently,  and 
besides  correspond  with  Marynia  and  learn  what  her 
thoughts  really  were  touching  Mashko. 

On  the  day  of  his  departure,  Pani  Emilia  and  Litka,  with 
Vaskovski,  took  farewell  of  him  at  the  station.  When  in 
the  compartment,  he  was  rather  sorry  to  go.  Happen  what 
might,  he  knew  not  how  things  would  turn  out  at  Warsaw ; 
here  he  was  surrounded  by  persons  who  were  the  sincerest 
well-wishers  that  he  had  in  the  world.  Looking  out  through 
the  window,  he  beheld  the  sad  eyes  of  Litka  raised  toward 
him,  and  the  friendly  face  of  Pani  Emilia,  with  the  same 
feeling  as  if  they  had  been  his  own  family.  And  again 
that  uncommon  beauty  of  the  young  widow  struck  him,— her 
features,  delicate  to  the  verge  of  excess,  her  angelic  expres- 


86  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

sion  of  face,  and  her  form  perfectly  maidenlike,  dressed  in 
black. 

"  Farewell,"  said  Pani  Emilia,  "  and  write  to  us  from 
Warsaw  ;  we  shall  see  each  other  in  three  weeks  or  sooner." 

"  In  three  weeks,"  repeated  Pan  Stanislav.  "  I  will  write 
certainly.     Till  we  meet  again,  Litus !  " 

"  Till  we  meet  again !    Bow  from  me  to  Evka  and  Yoasia." 

"I  will  do  so." 

And  he  stretched  out  his  hand  through  the  window  again : 

"  Till  our  next  meeting !     Remember  your  friend." 

"We  will  not  forget;  we  will  not  forget.  Do  you  wish 
me  to  repeat  a  novena  for  your  intention?"  asked  Pani 
Emilia,  smiling. 

"  Thank  you  for  that  too.  Do  so.  Till  we  meet  again, 
Professor." 

The  train  moved  that  moment.  Pani  Emilia  and  Litka 
waved  their  parasols  till  the  more  frequent  puffing  of  the 
engine  hid,  with  rolls  of  steam  and  smoke,  the  window 
through  which  Pan  Stanislav  was  looking. 

"Mamma,"  asked  Litka,  "is  it  really  necessary  to  say  a 
novena  for  Pan  Stas  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Litus.  He  is  so  kind  to  us,  we  must  pray  to 
God  to  make  him  happy." 

"  But  is  he  unhappy  ?  " 

"Xo  —  that  is  —  seest  thou,  every  one  has  trouble,  and 
he  has  his." 

"  I  know ;  I  heard  in  Thumsee,"  said  the  little  girl.  And 
after  a  while  she  added  in  a  low  voice,  — 

"  I  will  say  a  novena." 

But  Professor  Vaskovski,  who  was  so  honest  that  he 
could  not  hold  his  tongue,  said  after  a  time  to  Pani  Emilia, 
when  Litka  had  gone  forward,  — 

"  That  is  a  golden  heart,  and  he  loves  you  both  as  a 
brother.  Now  that  the  specialist  has  assured  us  that  there 
is  not  the  least  fear,  I  can  tell  everything.  Pan  Stanislav 
brought  him  here  purposely,  for  he  was  alarmed  about  the 
little  girl  in  Thumsee." 

"Did  he  bring  him?"  asked  Pani  Emilia.  "What  a 
man ! "  And  tears  of  gratitude  came  to  her  eyes.  After  a 
while  she  said,  "But  I  will  reward  him,  for  I  will  give 
him  Marynia." 

Pan  Stanislav  went  away  with  a  heart  full  of  good  wishes 
and  gratitude  to  Pani  Emilia,  for  the  man  who  has  failed 
and  for  that  reason  falls  into  trouble,  feels  the  friendship 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  87 

of  people  more  keenly  than  others.  Sitting  in  the  corner 
of  the  compartment,  with  the  image  of  Pani  Emilia  fresh  in 
his  mind,  he  said  to  himself,  — 

"  If  I  had  fallen  in  love  with  her  !  What  rest,  what  cer- 
tainty of  happiness !  An  object  in  life  would  have  been 
found  ;  I  should  know  for  whom  I  am  working,  I  should 
know  whose  I  am,  I  should  know  that  my  existence  has 
some  meaning.  She  says,  it  is  true,  that  she  will  not  marry, 
but  me !  —  she  might,  who  knows  ?  That  other  is  perfec- 
tion, perhaps,  but  she  may  have  a  very  dry  heart." 

Here  he  feels  suddenly :  "  Still  I  can  think  calmly  about 
Paul  Emilia ;  while  at  every  recollection  of  that  other  a 
certain  unquiet  seizes  me,  Avhich  is  at  once  both  bitter  and 
agreeable.  I  am  drawn  by  something  toward  that  other.  I 
have  just  pressed  Pani  Emilia's  hand,  and  that  pressure  has 
left  no  sensation  ;  wliile  even  now  1  remember  the  warm 
palm  of  Maryuia,  and  feel  a  certain  species  of  quiver  at  the 
very  thought  of  it." 

As  far  as  Salzburg,  Pan  Stanislav  thought  only  of  "  that 
other."  This  time  his  thoughts  began  to  take  the  form,  if 
not  of  resolves,  at  least  of  questions,  —  how  is  he  to  act 
toward  her,  and  what  in  this  state  of  affairs  is  his  duty  ? 

"  It  is  not  to  be  denied  that  I  caused  the  sale  of  Kremen," 
said  he  to  himself.  "Kremen  had  for  her  not  only  the 
money  value,  which  might  perhaps  have  been  drawn  from 
it  had  the  sale  not  been  hastened,  but  also  the  value  with 
which  her  heart  was  bound  to  the  place.  I  have  deprived 
her  of  botli.  Briefly  speaking,  I  have  wronged  her.  I 
have  acted  legally ;  but  for  a  conscience  made  up  of  some- 
thing more  than  paragraphs,  that  is  not  sufficient.  I  have 
offended  her,  I  confess,  and  I  must  correct  my  fault  in 
some  way.  But  how?  Buy  Kremen  from  Mashko?  I 
am  not  ri'ch  enough.  I  might  perhaps  do  so  by  dissolving 
partnership  with  Bigiel  and  withdrawing  all  my  capital; 
but  that  is  materially  impossible.  Bigiel  might  fail,  should 
I  do  that ;  hence  I  will  not  do  it.  There  is  one  other  way, 
—  to  keep  up  relations  as  best  I  can  with  Plavitski,  and 
propose  later  on  for  the  hand  of  his  daughter.  If  rejected, 
I  shall  have  done  at  least  what  behooves  me." 

But  here  that  second  internal  man,  of  whom  Pan  Stanis- 
lav made  mention,  raised  his  voice  and  began,  — 

"Do  not  shield  thyself  with  a  question  of  conscience. 
If  Panna  Plavitski  were  ten  years  older  and  ugly,  thou 
raightst  have  caused  in  the  same  way  the  sale  of  Kremen, 


88  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

and  taken  from  her  everything  which  thou  hast  taken,  and 
still  it  would  not  have  come  to  thy  head  to  ask  for  her 
hand.  Tell  thyself  straightway  that  Panua  Plavitski  draws 
thee,  as  with  nippers,  by  her  face,  her  eyes,  her  lips,  her 
arms,  her  whole  person,  and  do  not  tempt  th3'self." 

But,  in  general,  Pan  Stanislav  held  that  second  internal 
man  firmly,  and  treated  him  sometimes  with  very  slight 
ceremony.     Following  this  method,  he  said  to  him,  — 

"  First,  thou  knowest  not,  fool,  that  even  in  that  case  I 
should  not  try  to  make  good  the  injury.  That  at  present 
I  wish  to  make  it  good  by  proposing  for  the  lady  is  natural. 
!Men  always  ask  to  marry  women  who  please  them,  not 
those  for  whom  they  feel  repulsion.  If  thou  hast  nothing 
better  to  say,  then  be  silent." 

The  internal  man  ventured  a  few  more  timid  remarks,  as, 
for  instance,  that  Plavitski  might  give  command  to  throw 
Pan  Stanislav  downstairs;  that  in  the  best  case  he  might 
not  permit  hiui  to  cross  the  threshold.  But  somehow  Pan 
Stanislav  was  not  afraid  of  this.  "People,"  thought  he, 
"  do  not  use  such  means  now ;  and  if  the  Plavitskis  do  not 
receive  me,  so  much  the  worse  for  them." 

He  admitted,  however,  that  if  they  had  even  a  little 
tact  they  would  receive  him.  He  knew  that  he  would  see 
Marynia  at  Pani  Emilia's. 

Meditating  in  this  way,  he  arrived  at  Salzburg.  There 
was  one  hour  till  the  arrival  of  the  train  from  Monachium, 
by  which  he  was  to  go  to  Vienna;  hence  he  decided 
to  walk  about  the  town.  That  moment  he  saw  in  the 
restaurant  the  bright-colored  pea-jacket  of  Bukatski,  his 
monocle,  and  his  small  head,  covered  with  a  still  smaller 
soft  cap. 

"  Bukatski  or  his  spirit ! "  cried  he. 

"Calm  thyself.  Pan  Stanislav,"  answered  Bukatski, 
phlegmatically,  greeting  him  as  if  they  had  parted  an  hour 
before.    "  How  art  thou  ?  " 

**  What  art  thou  doing  here  ?  " 

"  Eating  a  cutlet." 

"ToPveichenhall?" 

"  Yes.     But  thou  art  homeward  ?  " 

«  Yes." 

"  Thou  hast  proposed  to  Pani  Emilia  ?  " 

"  No." 

"  Then  I  forgive  thee.     Thou  mayst  go." 

"  Keep  thy  conceits  for  a  fitter  season.  Litka  is  in  very 
great  danger." 


CHILDREN   OF  THE  SOIL.  89 

Bukatski  grew  serious,  and  said,  raising  his  brows,  — 

"  Ai,  ai !     Is  that  perfectly  certain  ?  " 

Pan  Stanislav  told  briefly  the  opinion  of  the  doctor. 
Bukatski  listened  for  a  while  ;  then  he  said,  — 

"  And  is  a  man  not  to  be  a  pessimist  in  this  case  ?  Poor 
child  and  poor  mother  !  In  the  event  of  misfortune,  I  can- 
not imagine  in  any  way  how  she  will  endure  it." 

"She  is  very  religious;  but  it  is  terrible  to  think  of 
this." 

"  Let  us  walk  through  the  town  a  little,"  said  Bukatski  j 
"  one  might  stifle  here." 

They  went  out. 

"  And  a  man  in  such  straits  is  not  to  be  a  pessimist ! " 
exclaimed  Bukatski.  "  What  is  Litka  ?  Simply  a  dove ! 
Every  one  would  spare  her ;  but  death  will  not  spare  her." 

Pan  Stanislav  was  silent. 

*'  I  know  not  myself  now,"  continued  Bukatski,  "  whether 
to  go  to  Reichenhall  or  not.  In  Warsaw,  when  Pan!  Emilia 
is  there,  even  I  can  hold  out.  Once  a  month  I  propose  to 
her,  once  a  month  I  receive  a  refusal ;  and  thus  I  live  from 
the  first  of  one  month  to  the  first  of  the  next.  The  first 
of  the  month  has  just  passed,  and  I  am  anxious  for  my  pen- 
sion.     Is  the  mother  aware  of  the  little  girl's  condition  ?  " 

"  No.  The  child  is  in  danger ;  but  perhaps  a  couple  of 
years  remain  yet  to  her." 

"  Ah  !  perhaps  no  more  remain  to  any  of  us.  Tell  me, 
dost  thou  think  of  death  often  ?  " 

"  No.  How  would  that  help  me  ?  I  know  that  I  must 
lose  the  case  ;  therefore  I  do  not  break  my  head  over  it, 
especially  before  the  time." 

"  In  this  is  the  point,  —  we  must  lose,  but  still  we  keep  up 
the  trial  to  the  end.  This  is  the  whole  sense  of  life,  which 
otherwise  would  be  simply  a  dreary  farce,  but  now  it  is  a 
dull  tragedy  as  well.  As  to  me,  I  have  three  things  at 
present  to  choose  from  :  to  hang  myself,  go  to  Reichenhall, 
or  go  to  Monachium  to  see  Boecklin's  pictures  once  more. 
If  I  were  logical,  I  should  choose  the  first ;  since  I  am  not, 
I  '11  choose  Reichenhall.  Pani  Emilia  is  worth  the  Boeck- 
lins,  both  as  to  outline  and  color." 

"  What  is  to  be  heard  in  Warsaw  ?  "  asked  on  a  sudden 
Pan  Stanislav,  who  had  had  that  question  on  his  lips  from 
the  first  of  the  conversation.    "  Hast  thou  seen  Mashko  ?  " 

"  I  have.  He  has  bought  Kreraen,  he  is  a  great  landholder, 
and,  since  he  has  wit,  he  is  using  all  his  power  not  to  seem 


90  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

too  great.  He  is  polite,  sensible,  flattering,  accessible ;  he 
is  changed,  not  to  my  advantage,  it  is  true,  for  what  do  I 
care  ?  but  surely  to  his  own." 

"  Is  n't  he  going  to  marry  Panna  Plavitski  ?  " 

''I  hear  that  he  wants  to.  Thy  partner,  Bigiel,  said 
something  of  this,  also  that  Mashko  bought  Kremen  on 
conditions  more  than  favorable.  Thou  wilt  find  clearer 
news  in  the  city." 

''  Where  are  the  Plavitskis  at  present  ?  " 

"  In  Warsaw.  They  are  living  in  the  Hotel  Eome. 
The  young  woman  is  not  at  all  ugly.  I  called  on  them  as 
a  cousin,  and  talked  about  thee." 

"  Thou  mightst  have  chosen  a  more  agreeable  subject  for 
them." 

"Plavitski,  who  is  glad  of  what  has  happened,  told  me 
that  thou  hadst  done  them  a  service,  without  wishing  it 
certainly,  but  thou  hadst  done  it.  I  asked  the  young  lady 
how  it  was  that  she  saw  thee  in  Kremen  for  the  first  time. 
She  answered  that  during  her  visit  in  Warsaw  thou  must 
have  been  in  foreign  countries." 

"  In  fact,  I  was  gone  then  on  business  of  the  firm  to 
Berlin,  and  I  remained   there  some  time." 

"  Indeed,  I  did  not  observe  that  they  were  offended  at 
thee.  I  heard  so  much,  however,  of  the  young  lady's  love 
of  country  life,  that  she  must,  I  admit,  be  a  little  angry  at 
thee  for  having  taken  Kremen  from  her.  In  every  case, 
she  does  not  show  any  anger." 

"  Perhaps  she  will  show  it  only  to  me  ;  and  the  oppor- 
tunity will  not  be  lacking,  for  I  shall  visit  them  immedi- 
ately after  my  return." 

"  In  that  case  do  me  one  little  service  :  marry  the  lad}^, 
for  of  two  evils  I  prefer  to  be  thy  cousin  rather  than 
Mashko's," 

"  Very  well,"  replied  Pan  Stanislav,  curtly. 


CHILDREN   OF  THE   SOIL.  91 


CHAPTER  IX. 

After  his  return  to  Warsaw,  Fan  Stauislav  went  first  of 
all  to  Bigiel,  who  told  him  minutely  the  conditions  on  which 
Kremen  was  sold.  Those  couditious  were  very  profitable 
for  Mashko.  He  bound  himself  to  pay  at  the  end  of  a 
year  thirty-five  thousand  rubles,  which  were  to  come  from 
the  parcelling  of  Magyerovka,  and  besides  to  pay  three 
thousand  yearly  till  the  death  of  Pau  Plavitski.  To  Pan 
Stauislav  the  bargain  did  not  seem  at  first  too  uufavorable 
for  Plavitski ;  but  Bigiel  was  of  another  opinion, 

"I  do  not  judge  people  too  hastily,"  said  he;  "but 
Plavitski  is  an  incurable  old  egotist  who  has  sacrificed  the 
future  of  liis  child  to  his  own  comfort,  and,  besides,  he  is 
frivolous.  In  this  case  the  annuity  is  placed  as  it  were  on 
Kremen;  but  Kremen,  as  a  ruined  estate,  on  which  there 
is  need  to  spend  money,  has  a  fictitious  value.  If  Mashko 
puts  it  in  order,  very  well ;  if  not,  in  the  most  favorable 
event  he  will  fall  behind  in  payment,  and  Plavitski  may 
not  see  a  copper  for  years.  What  will  he  do  then  ?  He 
will  take  Kremen  back.  But  before  that  time  Masliko  will 
contract  new  debts,  even  to  pay  the  old  ones ;  and,  in 
case  of  his  bankruptcy,  God  knows  how  many  creditors 
will  stretch  their  hands  after  Kremen.  Finally,  all  depends 
on  the  honesty  of  Mashko,  who  may  be  a  correct  man, 
but  he  is  carrying  on  business  riskily ;  if  he  takes  one  false 
step,  it  may  ruin  him.  Who  knows  if  this  very  purchase 
of  Kremen  be  not  such  a  step  ?  —  for,  wishing  to  bring  the 
estate  into  order,  he  must  draw  on  his  credit  to  the  utmost. 
I  have  seen  men  who  succeeded  a  long  time  until  they 
turned  to  buying    great  estates." 

"The  ready  money  for  Magyerovka  will  remain  with  the 
Flavitskis  always,"  said  Pan  Stauislav,  as  if  wishing  to 
quiet  his  own  fears  for  their  future. 

"  If  old  Plavitski  does  not  eat  it  up,  or  play  it  away,  or 
waste  it." 

"  I  must  think  of  something.  I  caused  the  sale  ;  I  must 
help." 

"  Thou  ?"  asked  Bigiel,  witli  astonishment.  "  I  thought 
that  thy  relations  were  broken  forever." 


92  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

"  I  shall  try  to  renew  them.  I  will  visit  the  Plavitskis 
to-morrow." 

"  I  do  not  know  that  they  will  be  glad  to  see  thee." 

"  And  I  myself  do  not  know." 

"  Dost  wish  I  will  go  with  thee  ?  For  it  is  a  question 
of  breaking  the  ice.  They  may  not  receive  thee  alone.  It 
is  a  pity  that  my  wife  is  not  here.  I  sit  by  myself  whole 
evenings  and  play  on  the  violoncello.  During  the  day  I 
have  time  enough  too ;  I  can  go  with  thee." 

Pan  Stanislav,  however,  refused,  and  next  day  he  dressed 
himself  with  great  care  and  went  alone.  He  knew  that  ne 
was  a  presentable  man ;  and  though  usually  he  did  not 
think  much  of  this,  he  resolved  now  to  omit  nothing  which 
might  speak  in  his  favor.  On  the  way  he  had  liis  head 
full  of  thoughts  as  to  what  he  should  say,  what  he  snould 
do  in  this  case  or  that  one,  and  he  tried  to  foresee  how  they 
would  receive  him. 

"  I  will  be  as  simple  and  outspoken  as  possible,"  said  he 
to  himself ;  "that  is  the  best  method  absolutely." 

And,  before  he  noted  it,  he  found  himself  at  the  Hotel 
Rome.     His  heart  began  to  beat  then  more  quickly. 

"  It  would  not  be  bad,"  thought  he,  "  if  I  should  not  find 
them  at  home.  I  could  leave  a  card  and  see  later  on  if 
Plavitski  would  acknowledge  my  visit." 

But  straightway  he  said  to  himself,  "  Don't  be  a  coward," 
and  went  forward.  Learning  from  the  servant  that  Pla- 
vitski was  at  home,  he  sent  in  his  card,  and  after  a  while 
was  invited  to  enter. 

Plavitski  was  sitting  at  a  table  writing  letters,  drawing 
at  intervals  smoke  from  a  pipe  with  a  great  amber  mouth- 
piece. At  sight  of  Pan  Stanislav  he  raised  his  head,  and, 
looking  at  him  through  gold-rimmed  glasses,  said,  — 

"  I  beg,  I  beg ! " 

"I  learned  from  Bigiel  that  you  and  Panna  Plavitski 
were  in  Warsaw,"  said  Pan  Stanislav,  "  and  I  came  to  pay 
my  respects." 

"  That  was  very  pretty  on  thy  part,"  answered  Plavitski, 
"  and,  to  tell  the  truth,  I  did  not  expect  it.  We  parted  in 
a  bitter  manner  and  through  thy  fault.  But  since  thou 
hast  felt  it  thy  duty  to  visit  me,  I,  as  the  older,  open  my 
^rras  to  thee  a  second  time." 

The  opening  of  the  arms,  however,  was  confined  to  reach- 
ing across  the  table  a  hand,  which  Pan  Stanislav  pressed, 
saying  in  his  own  mind,  — 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  93 

"  May  the  Evil  One  take  me,  if  I  come  here  to  thee,  and 
if  I  feel  toward  thee  any  obligation ! "  After  a  while  he 
asked,  "  You  and  your  daughter  are  coming  to  live  in 
Warsaw  ?  " 

"  Yes.  I  am  an  old  man  of  the  country,  accustomed  to 
rise  with  the  sun  and  to  work  in  the  fields;  it  will  be 
grievous  for  me  in  your  Warsaw.  But  it  was  not  right  to 
imprison  my  child;  hence  I  made  one  sacrifice  more  for 
her." 

Pan  Stanislav,  who  had  spent  two  nights  in  Kremen, 
remembered  that  Plavitski  rose  about  eleven  in  the  forenoon, 
and  that  he  labored  specially  about  the  business  of  Kremen, 
not  its  fields;  he  passed  this, however,  in  silence,  for  he  had 
a  head  occupied  with  something  else  at  that  moment.  From 
the  chamber  which  Plavitski  occupied,  an  open  door  led  to 
another,  which  must  be  Marynia's.  It  occurred  to  Pan 
Stanislav,  who  was  looking  in  the  direction  of  that  door 
from  the  time  of  his  entrance,  that  perhaps  she  did  not 
wish  to  come  out ;  therefore  he  inquired,  — 

"  But  shall  I  not  have  the  pleasure  of  seeing  Panna 
Marynia  ?  " 

"Maryiiia  has  gone  to  look  at  lodgings  which  I  found 
this  morning.  She  will  come  directly,  for  they  are  only  a 
couple  of  steps  distant.  Imagine  to  thyself  a  plaything, 
not  lodgings.  I  shall  have  a  cabinet  and  a  sleeping-room ; 
Marynia  also  a  very  nice  little  chamber,  —  the  dining-room 
is  a  trifle  dark,  it  is  true ;  but  the  drawing-room  is  a  candy- 
box." 

Here  Plavitski  passed  into  a  narrative  concerning  his 
lodgings,  with  the  volubility  of  a  child  amused  by  some- 
thing, or  of  an  old  lover  of  comfort,  who  smiles  at  every 
improvement.     At  last  he  said,  — 

"I  had  barely  looked  around  when  I  found  myself  at 
home.     Dear  Warsaw  is  my  old  friend;  I  know  her  well." 

But  at  that  moment  some  one  entered  the  adjoining  room. 

"That  is  Marynia,  surely,"  said  Plavitski.  "Marynia, 
art  thou  there  ?  "  called  he. 

"I  am,"  answered  a  youthful  voice. 

"  Come  here  ;  we  have  a  guest." 

Marynia  appeared  in  the  door.  At  sight  of  Pan  Stanis- 
lav, astonishment  shone  on  her  face.  He,  rising,  bowed ; 
and  w-hen  she  approached  the  table,  he  stretched  out  his 
hand  in  greeting.  She  gave  him  her  own  with  as  much 
cnlflnpss  as  politeness.  Then  she  turned  to  her  father,  as 
if  no  one  else  were  present  in  the  room,  — 


94  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

"  I  have  seen  the  lodgings ;  they  are  neat  and  comfort- 
able, but  I  am  not  sure  that  the  street  is  not  too  noisy." 

"  All  streets  are  noisy,"  answered  Plavitski.  "  Warsaw 
is  not  a  village." 

"  Pardon  me ;  I  will  go  to  remove  my  hat,"  said  Ma- 
rynia.  And,  returning  to  her  room,  she  did  not  appear 
for  some  time. 

"  She  will  not  show  herself  again,"  thought  Pan  Stan- 
islav. 

But  evidently  she  was  only  arranging  her  hair  before 
the  mirror,  after  removing  her  hat ;  she  entered  a  second 
time,  and  asked,  — 

"  Am  I  interrupting  ?  " 

<'  No,"  said  Plavitski,  "  we  have  no  business  now,  for 
which,  speaking  in  parenthesis,  I  am  very  glad.  Pan  Po- 
lanyetski  has  come  only  through  politeness." 

Pan  Stanislav  blushed  a  little,  and,  wishing  to  change 
the  subject,  said,  — 

"  I  am  returning  from  Reichenhall ;  I  bring  you  greetings 
from  Pani  Emilia  and  Litka,  and  that  is  one  reason  why  I 
made  bold  to  come." 

For  a  moment  the  cool  self-possession  on  Marynia's  face 
vanished. 

"  Emilia  wrote  to  me  of  Litka's  heart  attack,"  said  she. 
"  How  is  she  now  ?  " 

"  There  has  not  been  a  second  attack." 

"  I  expect  another  letter,  and  it  may  have  come ;  but  I 
have  not  received  it,  for  Emilia  addressed  it  very  likely  to 
Kremen." 

"  They  will  send  it,"  said  Plavitski ;  "  I  gave  directions 
to  send  all  the  mail  here." 

"  You  will  not  go  back  to  the  country,  then  ?  "  asked 
Pan  Stanislav. 

"Xo;  we  will  not,"  answered  Marynia,  whose  eyes  recov- 
ered their  expression  of  cool  self-possession. 

A  moment  of  silence  followed.  Pan  Stanislav  looked  at 
the  young  lady,  and  seemed  to  be  struggling  with  himself. 
Her  face  attracted  him  with  new  power.  He  felt  now 
more  clearly  that  in  such  a  person  precisely  he  would  find 
most  to  please  him,  that  he  could  love  such  a  one,  that  she 
is  the  type  of  his  chosen  woman,  and  all  the  more  her  cold- 
ness became  unendurable.  He  would  give  now,  God  knows 
what,  to  find  again  in  those  features  the  expression  which 
he  saw  in  Kremen,  the  interest  in  his  words,  and  the  atten- 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOH..  95 

tion,  the  transparency  in  those  eyes  full  of  smiles  and 
roused  curiosity.  He  would  give,  God  knows  what,  to  have 
all  this  return,  and  he  knew  not  by  what  method  to  make  it 
return,  by  a  slow  or  a  quick  one  ;  for  this  cause  he  hesitated. 
He  chose  at  last  that  which  agreed  best  with  his  nature. 

"I  knew,"  said  he,  suddenly,  "how  you  loved  Kremen, 
and  in  spite  of  that,  perhaps,  it  is  I  who  caused  its  sale. 
If  that  be  the  case,  I  tell  you  openly  that  I  regret  the  act 
acutely,  and  shall  never  cease  to  regret  it.  In  my  defence 
I  cannot  even  say  that  I  did  it  while  excited,  and  without 
intent.  Nay,  I  had  an  intent;  only  it  was  malicious  and 
irrational.  All  the  greater  is  my  fault,  and  all  the  more 
do  I  entreat  your  forgiveness." 

When  he  had  said  this,  he  rose.  His  cheeks  were  flushed, 
and  from  his  eyes  shone  truth  and  sincerity ;  but  his  words 
remained  without  effect.  Pan  Stanislav  went  by  a  false 
road.  He  knew  women  in  general  too  slightly  to  render 
account  to  himself  of  how  far  their  judgments,  especially 
their  judgments  touching  men,  are  dependent  on  their  feel- 
ings, both  transient  and  permanent.  In  virtue  of  these 
feelings,  anything  may  be  taken  as  good  or  bad  money  j 
anything  interpreted  for  evil  or  good,  recognized  as  true  or 
false  ;  stupidity  may  be  counted  reason,  reason  stupidity, 
egotism  devotion,  devotion  egotism,  rudeness  sincerity, 
sincerity  lack  of  delicacy.  The  man  who  in  a  given  mo- 
ment rouses  dislike,  cannot  be  right  with  a  woman,  cannot 
be  sincere,  cannot  be  just,  cannot  be  well-bred.  So  Marynia, 
feeling  deep  aversion  and  resentment  toward  Pan  Stanislav 
from  the  time  of  Mashko's  coming  to  Kremen,  took  sincerity 
simply  ill  of  him.  Her  first  thought  was  :  "What  kind  of 
man  is  this  who  recognizes  as  unreasonable  and  bad  that 
which  a  few  days  ago  he  did  with  calculation  ?  "  Then  Kre- 
men, the  sale  of  the  place,  Mashko's  visit  and  the  meaning 
of  that  visit,  which  she  divined,  were  for  her  like  a  wound 
festering  more  and  more.  And  now  it  seemed  to  her  that 
Pan  Stanislav  was  opening  that  wound  with  all  the  unspar- 
ingness  of  a  man  of  rough  nature  and  rude  nerves. 

He  rose,  and  with  eyes  fixed  on  her  face,  waited  to  see  if 
a  friendly  and  forgiving  hand  would  not  be  extended  to 
him,  with  a  clear  feeling  that  one  such  stretching  forth  of 
a  hand  might  decide  his  fate  ;  but  her  eyes  grew  dark  for  a 
moment,  as  if  from  pain  and  anger,  and  her  face  became 
still  colder. 

"  Let  not  that  annoy  you,"  said  she,  with  icy  politeness. 


96  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

"On  the  contrary,  papa  is  very  much  satisfied  with  the 
b.argain  and  with  the  whole  arrangement  witli  Pan 
Masliko." 

She  rose  then,  as  if  understanding  that  Pan  Stanislav 
wished  to  take  leave.  He  stood  a  moment  stricken,  disap- 
pointed, full  of  resentment  and  suppressed  anger,  full  of 
that  feeling  of  mortification  which  a  man  has  when  he  is 
rejected. 

"  If  that  is  true,  I  desire  nothing  more." 

"  It  is,  it  is  !    I  did  a  good  business,"  concluded  Plavitski. 

Pan  Stanislav  went  out,  and,  descending  a  number  of  steps 
at  a  time  with  hat  pressed  down  on  his  head,  he  repeated 
mentally,  — 

"  A  foot  of  mine  will  not  be  in  your  house  again." 

He  felt,  however,  that,  if  he  were  to  go  home,  anger  would 
stifle  him  ;  he  walked  on,  therefore,  not  thinking  whither 
his  feet  were  bearing  him.  It  seemed  to  him  at  that 
moment  that  he  did  not  love  Marynia,  that  he  even  hated 
her ;  but  still  he  thought  about  her,  and  if  he  had  thought 
more  calmly  he  would  have  told  himself  that  the  mere 
sight  of  her  had  affected  him  deeply.  He  had  seen  her 
now  a  second  time,  had  looked  on  her,  had  compared 
that  image  of  her  which  he  had  borne  in  his  memory  with 
the  reality ;  the  image  became  thereby  still  more  definite, 
more  really  attractive,  and  acted  the  more  powerfully  on 
him.  And,  in  spite  of  the  anger,  in  the  depth  of  his  soul  an 
immense  liking  for  her  raised  its  head,  and  a  delight  in  the 
woman.  There  existed,  as  it  were,  for  him  two  INIarynias,  — 
one  the  mild,  friendly  Marynia  of  Kremen,  listening  and 
ready  to  love  ;  the  other  that  icy  young  lady  of  Warsaw, 
who  had  rejected  him.  A  woman  often  becomes  dual  in 
this  way  in  the  heart  of  a  man,  which  is  then  most  fre- 
quently ready  to  forgive  this  unfriendly  one  for  the  sake  of 
that  loved  one.  Pan  Stanislav  did  not  even  admit  that 
Marynia  could  be  such  as  she  had  shown  herself  that  day ; 
hence  there  was  in  his  anger  a  certain  surprise.  Knowing 
his  own  undeniable  worth,  and  being  conceited  enough,  he 
carried  within  him  a  conviction,  which  he  would  not 
acknowledge  to  himself,  that  it  was  enough  for  him  to 
extend  his  hand  to  have  it  seized.  This  time  it  turned  out 
differently.  That  mild  Marynia  appeared  suddenly,  not 
only  in  the  role  of  a  judge,  vi^ho  uttei*s  sentences  and  con- 
demns, but  also  in  the  role,  as  it  were,  of  a  queen,  with  whom 
it  is  possible  to  be  in  favor  or  disfavor.      Pan  Stanislav 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  97 

could  not  accustom  himself  to  this  thought,  and  he  strufjgled 
with  it;  but  such  is  human  nature  that,  when  he  learned  that 
for  tliat  lady  he  was  not  so  much  desired  as  he  had  thought, 
that  she  not  only  did  not  over-value  him,  but  esteemed 
him  lower  than  herself,  in  spite  of  his  displeasure,  offence, 
and  anger,  her  value  increased  in  his  eyes.  His  self-love  was 
wounded  ;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  his  will,  in  reality  strong, 
was  ready  to  rush  to  the  struggle  with  difficulties,  and  crush 
them.  All  these  thoughts  were  circling  chaotically  in  his 
head,  or,  instead  of  thoughts,  they  were  rather  feelings  torn 
and  tearing  themselves.  He  repeated  a  hundred  times  to 
himself  that  he  would  drop  the  whole  matter,  that  he  must 
and  wished  to  do  so;  and  at  the  same  time  he  was  so  weak, 
and  small  that  somewhere  in  the  most  secret  corner  of  his 
soul  he  was  counting  that  very  moment  on  the  arrival  of 
Pani  Emilia,  and  on  the  aid  which  her  arrival  would  bring 
him.  Sunk  in  this  mental  struggle,  he  did  not  recollect 
himself  till  he  was  halfway  on  the  Zyazd,  when  he  asked, 
"  Why  the  misery  have  I  gone  to  Praga  ? "  He  halted. 
The  day  was  fine  and  was  inclining  toward  evening.  Lower 
down,  the  Vistula  was  flowing  in  the  gleam  of  the  sun ;  and 
beyond  it,  and  beyond  the  nearer  clumps  of  green,  a  broad 
country  was  visible,  covered  on  the  horizon  with  a  rosy  and 
blue  haze.  Far  away,  beyond  that  haze,  was  Kremen,  which 
Marynia  had  loved  and  which  she  had  lost.  Pan  Stanislav, 
fixing  his  eyes  on  the  haze,  said  to  himself,  — 

"  I  am  curious  to  know  what  she  would  have  done  had  I 
given  Kremen  to  her." 

He  could  not  imagine  that  to  himself  definitely ;  but  he 
thought  that  the  loss  of  that  land  was  for  her  a  great  bitter- 
ness really,  and  he  regretted  it.  In  this  sorrow  his  anger 
began  to  scatter  and  vanish  as  mist.  His  conscience 
whispered  that  he  had  received  what  he  earned.  Return- 
ing, he  said  to  himself,  "But  I  am  thinking  of  all  this 
continually." 

And  really  he  was.  Never  had  he  experienced,  in  th** 
most  important  money  questions,  even  half  the  disquiet, 
never  had  he  been  absorbed  so  deeply.  And  again  he 
remembered  what  Vaskovski  had  said  of  himself,  that  his 
nature,  like  Pan  Stanislav's,  could  not  fix  its  whole  power  on 
the  acquisition  of  money.  Never  had  he  felt  with  such 
clearness  that  there  mi'^rht  be  questions  more  important 
than  those  of  wealth,  ar.d  simply  more  positive.  For  the 
second  time  a  certain  astonishment  seized  him. 

7 


98  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

It  was  nearly  nine  when  he  went  to  BigiePs.  Bigiel  was 
sitting  in  a  spacious,  empty  house  with  doors  opening  on 
the  garden  veranda;  he  was  playing  on  a  violoncello  in  such 
fashion  that  everything  through  the  house  was  quivering. 
When  he  saw  Pan  Stauislav  he  broke  off  a  certain  tremolo 
and  inquired,  — 

"  Hast  thou  been  at  the  Plavitskis'  to-day  ?  " 
- "  Yes." 

"  How  was  the  young  lady  ?  "  -      • 

"  Like  a  decanter  of  chilled  water.  On  such  a  hot  day 
that  is  agreeable.     They  are  polite  people,  however." 

**I  foresaw  this." 

"Play  on." 

Bigiel  began  to  play  "Traumerei,"  and  while  playing 
closed  his  eyes,  or  turned  them  to  the  moon.  In  the  still- 
ness the  music  seemed  to  fill  with  sweetness  the  house,  the 
garden,  and  the  night  itself.  When  he  had  finished,  he  was 
silent  for  a  time,  and  then  said,  — 

"  Knowest  what  ?  When  Pani  Emilia  comes,  my  wife 
will  ask  her  to  the  countrj'-,  and  with  her  Marynia.  Maybe 
those  ices  will  thaw  then  between  you." 

"  Play  the  '  Traumerei '  once  more." 

The  sounds  were  given  out  a  second  time,  with  calmness 
and  imagination.  Pan  Stanislav  was  too  young  not  to  be 
somewhat  of  a  dreamer;  hence  he  imagined  that  Marynia 
was  listening  with  him  to  the  "Traumerei,"  with  her  hand 
in  his  hands,  with  her  head  on  his  bosom,  loving  much,  and 
beloved  above  all  in  the  world. 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  99 


CHAPTER  X. 

Pan  Plavitski  was  what  is  called  a  well-bred  man,  for  he 
returned  Pan  Stanislav's  visit  on  the  third  day.  He  did 
not  return  it  on  the  second,  for  such  haste  would  have 
indicated  a  wish  to  maintain  intimate  relations ;  and  not  on 
the  fourth  nor  the  fifth,  for  that  would  have  shown  a  want 
of  acquaintance  with  the  habits  of  society,  —  but  only 
within  the  period  most  specially  and  exclusively  indicated 
by  command  of  sdvoir  vivre.  Plavitski  prided  himself  all 
his  life  on  a  knowledge  of  those  commands,  and  esteemed 
them  as  his  own  ;  the  observances  of  them  he  considered 
as  the  highest  human  wisdom.  It  is  true  that,  as  a  man  of 
sense,  he  permitted  other  branches  of  knowledge  to  exist, 
on  condition,  however,  that  they  should  not  be  overesti- 
mated ;  and  especially,  that  they  should  not  have  the  claim 
to  force  themselves  on  to  people  who  were  truly  well-bred. 

Pan  Stanislav  —  for  whom  everything  was  desirable  that 
would  strengthen  in  any  way  the  thread  of  further  rela- 
tions with  Marynia  —  was  hardly  able  to  conceal  his  delight 
at  the  arrival  of  Plavitski.  That  delight  was  evident  in 
his  agreeable  reception,  full  of  good-humor.  He  must  have 
been  astonished,  besides,  at  Plavitski,  and  the  influence 
which  the  city  had  exercised  on  him.  His  hair  shone  like 
the  wing  of  a  raven  ;  his  little  mustaches  were  sticking  up, 
vying  with  the  color  of  his  hair ;  his  white  shirt  covered  a 
slender  form ;  his  scarf-pin  and  black  vest  gave  a  certain 
holiday  brilliancy  to  his  whole  figure. 

*'  On  my  word,  I  did  not  recognize  my  uncle  at  the  first 
moment !  "  cried  Pan  Stanislavv  "  I  thought  that  some 
youngster  was  coming." 

^^ Bon  jour,  bon  jour  !  ^^  answered  Plavitski.  "  The  da}"- 
is  cloudy ;  a  little  dark  here.  It  must  be  for  that  reason 
that  thou  didst  mistake  me  for  a  stripling." 

"  Cloudy  or  clear,  what  a  figure  ! "  answered  Pan  Stanis- 
lav. 

And  seizing  Plavitski  by  the  side,  without  ceremony,  he 
began  to  turn  him  around  and  say,  — 

"  A  waist  just  like  a  young  lady's  !  Would  that  I  might 
have  such  a  one  ! " 


100  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

Plavitski,  offended  greatly  by  such  an  unceremonious 
greeting,  but  still  more  delighted  at  the  admiration  roused 
by  his  person,  said,  defending  himself,  — 

"  Voyons  !  Thou  art  a  lunatic.  I  might  be  angry.  Thou 
art  a  lunatic  !  " 

"  But  uncle  will  turn  as  many  heads  as  he  pleases." 

"  What  dost  thou  say  ?  "  asked  Plavitski,  sitting  down  in 
an  armchair. 

"  I  say  that  uncle  has  come  here  for  conquest." 

"I  have  no  thought  whatever  of  that.  Thou  art  a 
lunatic  ! " 

"But  Pani  Yamish?  or  haven't  I  seen  with  my  own 
eyes  —  " 

"  What  ?  " 

Here  Plavitski  shut  one  eye  and  thrust  out  the  point  of 
his  tongue ;  but  that  lasted  only  an  instant,  then  he  raised 
his  brows,  and  said,  — 

"Well,  as  to  Pani  Yamish?  She  is  well  enough  in 
Kremen.  Between  thee  and  me,  I  cannot  endure  affecta- 
tion, — it  savors  of  the  country.  May  the  Lord  God  not 
remember,  for  Pani  Yamish,  how  much  she  has  tortured  me 
with  her  affectation :  a  woman  should  have  courage  to 
grow  old,  then  a  relation  would  end  in  friendship ;  other- 
wise it  becomes  slavery." 

"  And  my  dear  uncle  felt  like  a  butterfly  in  bonds  ?  " 

"  But  don't  talk  in  that  way,"  answered  Plavitski,  with 
dignity,  "and  do  not  imagine  that  there  was  anything 
between  us.  Even  if  there  had  been,  thou  wouldst  not 
have  heard  a  word  about  it  from  me.  Believe  me,  there  is 
a  great  difference  between  you  of  this  and  us  of  the  preced- 
ing generation.  We  were  not  saints,  perhaps ;  but  we 
knew  how  to  be  silent,  and  that  is  a  great  virtue,  without 
which  what  is  called  true  nobility  cannot  exist." 

"  From  this  I  infer  that  uncle  will  not  confess  to  me 
where  he  is  going,  with  this  carnation  in  his  buttonhole  ?" 

"Oh,  yes,  yes!  Mashko  invited  me  to-day  to  dine  with 
a  number  of  other  persons.  At  first  1  refused,  not  wishing  to 
leave  Marynia  alone.  But  I  have  sat  so  many  years  in  the 
country  for  her  sake  that  in  truth  a  little  recreation  is  due 
to  me.     But  art  thou  not  invited  ?  " 

"No." 

"  That  astonishes  me :  thou  art,  as  thou  sayest,  an  '  affair- 
ist ' ;  but  thou  bearest  a  good  family  name.  For  that 
matter,  Mashko  is  an  advocate  himself.     But,  in  general,  I 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  101 

confess  that  I  did  not  suspect  in  Mashko  the   power  to 
place  himself  as  he  has." 

"  Mashko  could  place  himself  even  on  his  head  —  " 

''He  goes  everywhere;  all  receive  him.  Once  I  had  a 
prejudice  against  him," 

"And  has  uncle  none  now  ?  " 

"  I  must  acknowledge  that  he  has  acted  with  me  in  all 
that  business  of  Kremen  like  a  gentleman." 

"Is  Panna  Marynia  of  the  same  opinion  ?" 

"  Certainly ;  though  I  think  that  Kremen  lies  on  her 
heart.  I  got  rid  of  it  for  her  sake,  but  youth  cannot 
understand  everything.  I  knew  about  her  views,  however, 
and  am  ready  to  endure  every  bitterness  with  calm.  As 
to  Mashko,  in  truth,  she  cannot  cast  reproach  at  him  for 
anything.     He  bought  Kremen,  it  is  true,  but  —  " 

"But  he  is  ready  to  give  it  back  ?  " 

"  Thou  art  of  the  family,  so,  speaking  between  us,  I  think 
that  that  is  true.  Marynia  occupied  him  greatly,  even 
during  our  former  visit  to  Warsaw ;  but  somehow  the  affair 
did  not  move.  The  maiden  was  too  young ;  he  did  not  please 
her  sufficiently  ;  I  was  a  little  opposed  myself,  for  I  was 
prejudiced  as  to  his  family.  Bukatski  sharpened  his  teeth 
at  him,  so  it  ended  in  nothing." 

"It  did  not  end,  since  it  is  beginning  again." 

"  It  is,  for  I  am  convinced  that  he  comes  of  a  very  good 
famil}',  once  Italian  and  formerly  called  Masco.  They 
came  here  with  Queen  Bona,  and  settled  in  White  Eussia 
at  that  time.  He,  if  thou  hast  noticed  it,  has  a  face  some- 
what Italian." 

"  No  ;  he  has  a  Portuguese  face." 

"  That  is  all  one,  however.  But  the  plan  to  sell  Kremen 
and  still  to  keep  it  —  no  common  head  could  have  worked 
that  out.  As  to  jNEashko  —  yes  I  think  that  such  is  his 
plan.  Marynia  is  a  strange  girl,  though.  It  is  bitter  to  say 
this,  that  a  man  understands  a  stranger  sooner  than  his 
own  child.  But  if  she  will  only  say  as  Talleyrand  did, 
*  Paris  vaut  la  messed  " 

"Ah,  I  thought  that  it  was  Henry  IV.  who  said  that." 

"  Thou  didst,  for  thou  art  an  '  affairist,'  a  man  of  recent 
times.  History  and  ancient  deeds  are  not  to  the  taste  of 
you  young  men,  ye  prefer  to  make  money.  Everything 
depends,  then,  on  Marynia ;  but  I  will  not  hurry  her.  I  will 
not,  for,  finally,  with  our  connections,  a  better  match  may 
be  found.     It  is  necessary  tp  go  out  a  little  among  people 


102  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

and  find  old  acquaintances.  That  is  only  toil  and  torment ; 
but  what  is  necessary,  is  necessary.  Thou  thinkest  that 
I  go  to  this  dinner  with  pleasure.  No  !  but  I  must  receive 
young  people  sometimes.  I  hope  too  that  thou  wilt  not 
forget  us." 

"  Xo,  no  ;    I  will  not." 

"Dost  know  what  they  say  of  thee?  —  that  thou  art 
making  money  infernally.  Well,  well,  I  don't  know  whom 
thou  art  like  —  not  like  thy  father  !  lu  every  case,  I  am 
not  the  man  to  blame  thee,  no,  no !  Thou  didst  throttle 
me  without  mercy,  didst  treat  me  as  the  wolf  did  the  lamb ; 
but  there  is  in  thee  something  which  pleases  me,  —  I  have 
for  thee  a  kind  of  weakness." 

"  The  feeling  is  mutual,"  said  Pan  Stanislav. 

In  fact,  Plavitski  did  not  lie.  He  had  aft  instinctive 
respect  for  property,  and  that  j'oung  man,  who  was  gaining 
it,  roused  in  him  a  certain  admiration,  bordering  on  sj'm- 
pathy.  He  was  not  some  poor  relative  who  might  ask  for 
assistance ;  and  therefore  Plavitski,  though  for  the  moment 
he  had  no  calculations  in  regard  to  Pan  Stanislav,  resolved 
to  keep  up  relations  with  him.  At  the  end  of  the  visit  he 
began  to  look  around  on  the  apartments. 

"  Thou  hast  fine  lodgings!  "  said  he. 

That,  too,  was  true.  Pan  Stanislav  had  a  dwelling 
furnished  as  if  he  were  about  to  marry.  The  furnishing 
itself  caused  him  pleasure,  for  it  gave  a  certain  show  of 
reality  to  his  wishes. 

Plavitski,  looking  around  at  the  drawing-room,  beyond 
which  was  another  smaller  apartment  furnished  very 
elegantly,  inquired, — 

"  Why  not  marry  ?  " 

"  I  will  when  I  can." 

Plavitski  smiled  cunningly,  and,  patting  Pan  Stanislav 
on  the  knee,  began  to  repeat,  — 

"  I  know  whom  ;  I  know  whom." 

"  Wit  is  needed  in  this  case  !  "  cried  Pan  Stanislav ;  "  try 
to  keep  a  secret  from  such  a  diplomat." 

"Ah  ha!  whom  ?    The  widow,  the  widow —  whom  ?" 

"  Dear  uncle !  " 

"Well  ?  May  God  bless  thee,  as  I  bless  thee!  But 
now  I  am  going,  for  it  is  time  to  dine,  and  in  the  evening 
there  will  be  a  concert  in  Doliua." 

"In  company  with  Mashko ?  " 

"  No,  with  Marynia ;   but  Mashko  too  will  be  there." 


CHILDREN   OF  THE   SOIL.  103 

"  I  will  go  also,  with  Bigiel." 

"Then  we  shall  see  each  other.  A  mountain  cannot 
meet  a  mountain,  but  a  man  may  meet  a  man  any  time." 

"  As  Talleyrand  said." 

"  Till  our  next  meeting,  then  ! " 

Pan  Stauislav  liked  music  at  times ;  he  had  had  no 
thought,  though,  of  going  to  this  concert ;  but  when 
Flavitski  mentioned  it,  a  desire  of  seeing  Mashko  seized 
him.  After  Flavitski  had  gone,  he  thought  some  time 
yet  whether  to  go  or  not;  but  it  might  be  said  that  he  did 
this  for  form's  sake,  since  he  knew  in  advance  that  he 
would  not  hold  out  and  would  go.  Bigiel,  who  came  to 
him  for  a  business  consultation  in  the  afternoon,  let  him- 
self be  persuaded  easily,  and  about  four  o'clock  they  were 
in   Dolina. 

The  day,  though  in  September,  was  so  warm  and  pleasant 
that  people  had  assembled  numerously  ;  the  whole  audience 
had  a  summer  look.  On  all  sides  were  bright-colored 
dresses,  parasols,  and  youthful  women,  who  had  swarmed 
forth  like  many-colored  butterflies,  warmed  by  the  sun.  In 
this  swarm,  predestined  for  love,  or  already  the  object  of 
that  feeling  and  entertaining  it,  and  assembled  there  for  the 
pursuit  of  love  and  for  music,  Marynia  also  was  to  appear. 
Pan  Stanislav  remembered  his  student  years,  when  he  was 
enamoured  of  unknown  maidens  whom  he  sought  in  throngs 
of  people,  and  made  mistakes  every  moment,  through  simi- 
larity of  hat,  hair,  and  general  appearance.  And  it  hap- 
pened now  to  him,  to  mistake  at  a  distance  a  number  of 
persons  for  Marynia,  —  persons  more  or  less  like  her ;  and 
now,  as  before,  whenever  he  said  to  himself,  "  This  is 
she  ! "  he  felt  those  quivers  at  the  heart,  that  disquiet 
which  he  had  felt  formerly.  To-day,  however,  anger  came 
on  him,  for  this  seemed  to  him  ridiculous  ;  and,  besides, 
he  felt  that  such  eagerness  for  meetings  and  interviews,  by 
occupying  a  man,  and  fixing  his  attention  on  one  woman, 
increases  the  interest  which  she  excites,  and  binds  him  all 
the  more  to  her. 

Meanwhile  the  orchestra  began  to  play  before  he  could 
find  her  for  whom  he  was  looking.  It  was  necessary  to  sit 
down  and  listen,  which  he  did  unwillingly,  secretly  impa- 
tient with  Bigiel,  who  listened  with  closed  eyes.  After  the 
piece  was  ended,  he  saw  at  last  Plavitski's  shining  cylinder, 
and  his  black  mustaches  ;  beyond  him  the  profile  of  Marynia. 
Mashko  sat  third,  calm,  full  of  distinction,  with  the  mien  of 


104  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

an  English  lord.  At  times  he  talked  to  Marynia,  and  she 
turned  to  him,  nodding  slightly. 

"  The  Plavitskis  are  there,"  said  Pan  Stanislav.  "We 
must  greet  them." 

"  Where  dost  thou  see  them  ?  " 

"  Over  there,  with  Mashko." 

"  True.     Let  us  go." 

And  they  went. 

Marynia,  who  liked  Pani  Bigiel,  greeted  Bigiel  very 
cordially.  She  bowed  to  Pan  Stanislav  not  with  such  cool- 
ness as  to. arrest  attention  ;  but  she  talked  with  Bigiel,  in- 
quiring for  the  health  of  his  wife  and  children.  In  answer, 
he  invited  her  and  her  father  very  earnestly  to  visit  them 
on  the  following  week,  at  his  place  in  the  country. 

"  My  wife  will  be  happy,  very  happy  !  "  repeated  he. 
"Pani  Emilia  too  will  come." 

Marynia  tried  to  refuse  ;  but  Plavitski,  who  sought  enter- 
tainment, and  who  knew  from  his  former  stay  in  Warsaw 
that  Bigiel  lived  well,  accepted.  It  was  settled  that  they 
would  dine,  and  return  in  the  evening.  The  trip  was  an 
easy  one,  for  Bigiel 's  villa  was  only  one  station  distant 
from  Warsaw. 

"Meanwhile  sit  near  us,"  said  Plavitski;  "right  here  a 
number  of  seats  are  unoccupied." 

Pan  Stanislav  had  turned  already  to  Marynia,  — 

"  Have  you  news  from  Pani  Emilia  ?  " 

"I  wished  to  ask  if  you  had,"  answered  she. 

"  I  have  not ;  but  to-morrow  I  shall  inquire  about  Litka 
by  telegram." 

Here  the  conversation  stopped.  Bigiel  took  the  seat 
next  to  Plavitski,  Pan  Stanislav  on  the  outside.  Marynia 
turned  to  Mashko  again,  so  that  Pan  Stanislav  could  see 
only  her  profile,  and  that  not  completely.  It  seemed  to 
him  that  she  had  grown  somewhat  thin,  or  at  least  her 
complexion  had  become  paler  and  more  delicate  during  her 
stay  of  a  few  weeks  in  Warsaw  ;  hence  her  long  eyelashes 
were  more  sharply  defined  and  seemed  to  cast  more  shade. 
Her  whole  form  had  become  more  exquisite,  as  it  were. 
The  effect  was  heightened  by  a  careful  toilet  and  equally 
careful  arrangement  of  hair,  the  style  of  which  was  different 
from  what  it  had  been.  Formerly  she  wore  her  hair  bound 
lower  down,  now  it  was  dressed  more  in  fashion ;  that  is, 
high  under  her  hat.  Pan  Stanislav  noted  her  elegant  form 
at  a  glance,  and  admired  with  his  whole  soul  the  charm  of  it. 


CHILDREN   OF  THE   SOIL.  105 

which  was  evident  in  everything,  even  in  the  way  in  which 
she  held  her  hands  on  her  knees.  She  seemed  very  beauti- 
ful to  him.  He  felt  again  with  great  force  that  if  every 
man  bears  within  hira  his  own  type  of  female  charm,  which 
is  the  measure  of  the  impression  that  a  given  woman  makes 
on  him,  Marynia  is  for  him  so  near  his  type  that  she 
and  it  are  almost  identical,  and,  looking  at  her,  he  said  to 
himself,  — 

"  Oh  to  have  such  a  wife,  to  have  such  a  wife  !  " 

But  she  turned  to  Mashko.  Perhaps  she  turned  even  too 
often;  and  if  Pan  Stanislav  had  preserved  all  his  coolness  of 
blood,  he  might  have  thought  that  she  did  so  to  annoy  him, 
and  that  was  the  case,  perhaps.  Their  conversation  must 
have  been  animated,  however,  for,  from  time  to  time,  a 
bright  blush  flashed  over  her  face. 

"  But  she  is  simply  playing  the  coquette  with  him," 
thought  Pan  Stanislav,  gritting  his  teeth.  And  he  wanted 
absolutely  to  hear  what  they  were  saying ;  that  was  difficult, 
however.  The  audience,  during  the  long  intervals,  was 
noisy  enough.  Separated  by  two  persons  from  Marynia, 
Pan  Stanislav  could  not  hear  what  she  said ;  but  after  a 
new  piece  of  music  had  been  finished,  he  heard  single 
words  and  opinions  from  Mashko,  who  had  the  habit 
of  speaking  with  emphasis,  so  as  to  give  greater  weight 
to  each  word. 

"I  like  him,"  said  Mashko.  "Every  man  has  a  weak- 
ness ;  his  weakness  is  money  —  I  am  grateful  to  him,  for 
he  persuaded  me  —  to  Kremen  —  I  think,  besides,  that  he 
is  a  sincere  well-wislier  of  yours,  for  he  has  not  spared  — 
I  confess,  too,  that  he  roused  my  curiosity." 

Marynia  answered  something  with  great  vivacity ;  then 
Pan  Stanislav  heard  again  the  end  of  Mashko's  answer,  — 

<'A  character  not  forn)ed  yet,  and  intelligence  perhaps 
less  than  energy,  but  a  nature  rather  good." 

Pan  Stanislav  understood  perfectly  that  they  were  talk- 
ing of  him,  and  recognized  Mashko's  tactics  equally  well. 
To  judge,  as  it  were,  with  reason  and  impartially,  rather,  to 
praise,  or  at  least  to  recognize  various  qualities,  and  at 
the  same  time  to  strip  them  of  every  charm,  was  a  method 
well  known  to  the  young  advocate.  Through  this  he 
raised  himself  to  the  exceptional,  and,  as  it  were,  higher 
position  of  a  judge.  Pan  Stanislav  knew,  too,  that  Mashko 
spoke  not  so  much  with  intent  to  lower  him,  as  to  exalt 
himself,  and  that  likely  he  would  have  said  the  same  thing 


106  CHILDREN   OF  THE   SOIL. 

of  every  other  young  man  in  whom  he  might  suspect  a 
possible  rival. 

They  were  finally  the  tactics  which  Pan  Stanislav  him- 
self might  have  used  in  a  similar  case  ;  this  did  not  hinder 
hiin,  however,  from  considering  them  in  Mashko  as  the 
acme  of  perversity,  and  he  determined  to  pay  him  if  the 
opportunity  offered. 

Toward  the  end  of  the  concert  he  was  able  to  see  how 
far  ]\Eashko  was  assuming  the  role  of  suitor.  When  Ma- 
rynia,  wishing  to  tie  her  veil,  had  removed  her  gloves  and 
they  had  fallen  from  her  knees,  Mashko  raised  them  and  held 
them,  together  with  her  parasol ;  at  the  same  time  he  took 
her  wrap  from  the  side  of  the  chair  and  placed  it  across  his 
arm,  so  as  to  give  it  to  her  when  they  were  leaving  the 
garden,  —  in  a  word,  he  was  entirely  occupied  with  the  lady, 
though  he  preserved  the  coolness  and  tact  of  a  genuine 
man  of  society.  He  seemed  also  sure  of  himself  and  happy. 
In  fact,  Marynia,  beyond  the  brief  conversation  with  Bigiel, 
talked  only  with  Mashko  during  the  time  when  she  was 
not  listening  to  the  music.  When  they  moved  toward  the 
gate,  she  went  with  him  and  before  her  father.  Again  Pan 
Stanislav  saw  her  smiling  profile  turning  to  Mashko. 
While  talking,  they  looked  into  each  other's  eyes.  Her  face 
was  vivacious,  and  her  attention  directed  exclusively  to 
what  he  was  saying.  She  was,  in  fact,  coquetting  with 
Mashko,  who  saw  it  himself,  without  admitting,  hfowever, 
for  a  moment,  in  spite  of  his  cleverness,  that  she  could  do 
so  merely  to  worry  Pan  Stanislav. 

Before  the  gate  a  carriage  was  waiting  in  which  Mashko 
seated  her  and  her  father.  He  began  then  to  take  leave  of 
thein  ;  but  Marynia,  inclining  toward  him,  said,  — 

"  How  is  this  ?  Papa  has  invited  you ;  is  it  not  true, 
papa  ?  " 

"  He  was  to  come  with  us,"  said  Plavitski. 

Mashko  took  his  seat  in  the  carriage,  and  they  drove 
away,  exchanging  bows  with  Bigiel  and  Pan  Stanislav. 
The  two  friends  walked  on  a  good  while  in  silence ;  at  last 
Pan  Stanislav  said,  feigning  calmness  in  his  voice,  — 

"  I  am  curious  to  know  if  they  are  betrothed." 

"  I  do  not  think  they  are,"  said  Bigiel ;  "  but  it  is 
tending  that  way." 

"  I  too  see  that." 

"  I  thought  that  Mashko  would  seek  property.  But  he  is 
in  love,  and  that  may  happen  even  to  a  man  who  is  think- 


CHILDRP]N  OF  THE  SOIL.  107 

ing  only  of  a  career.  Mashko  is  in  love.  Besides,  by  tak- 
ing her  he  will  free  himself  from  paying  for  Kremen. 
No,  the  business  is  not  so  bad  as  it  seems,  and  the  lady  is 
very  pretty ;  what  is  true,  is  true." 

And  they  were  silent  again.  But  Pan  Stauislav  felt  so 
oppressed  that  he  could  not  control  himself. 

"  This  thought  that  she  will  marry  him  is  simply  a  tor- 
ment to  me.  And  this  helplessness  !  I  should  prefer  any- 
thing to  such  helplessness.  I  speak  to  thee  openly.  What 
a  stupid  and  ridiculous  role  I  have  played  in  the  whole 
affair ! " 

"Thou  hast  gone  too  far,  —  that  may  happen  to  any  one ; 
that  thou  wert  her  father's  creditor  is  the  fault  of  remark- 
able circumstances.  Thy  understanding  of  such  matters 
differs  utterly  from  his  :  thou  and  he  are  men  from  two 
different  planets,  hence  the  misunderstanding.  Perhaps 
the  affair  was  too  sharply  put  by  thee ;  but  when  I  think  it 
all  over,  too  great  mildness  was  not  proper,  even  out  of 
regard  to  Panna  Marynia.  By  making  too  great  abate- 
ments thou  wouldst  have  made  them  for  her,  —  is  it  not 
true?  What  would  have  resulted  ?  This,  that  she  helped 
her  father  in  exploiting  thee.  No ;  it  was  for  thee  to  finish 
the  matter." 

Here  the  prudent  Bigiel  checked  himself,  thought  a 
moment,  and  said,  — 

"And  as  to  thy  role,  there  is  one  escape:  to  withdraw 
completely,  leave  events  to  their  course,  and  tell  thyself 
that  all  is  going  according  to  thy  idea." 

"  How  will  it  help  me,"  cried  Pan  Stanislav,  violently, 
"to  say  that,  when  all  is  going  against  my  idea  ? —  and  since 
I  feel  foolish,  there  is  no  help  for  it.  How  could  there  be? 
To  begin  with,  I  did  all  this  myself,  and  now  I  want  to 
undo  it.  All  my  life  I  have  known  what  I  wanted,  but 
this  time  I  have  acted  as  if  I  did  n't  know." 

"  There  are  passages  in  life  to  be  forgotten." 

"That  may  be,  my  dear  man,  but  meanwhile  interest  in 
life  falls  away.  Is  the  question  whether  I  am  well  or  ill, 
rich  or  naked,  the  same  to  me  now  as  it  once  was  ?  I  feel 
sick  at  the  very  thought  of  the  future.  Thou  art  estab- 
lished and  connected  with  life ;  but  what  am  I  ?  There 
was  a  prospect ;  now  there  is  none.  That  gives  a  great 
distaste  for  things." 

"  But  surely  Panna  Marynia  is  not  the  only  woman  on 
earth." 


108  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

"  Why  say  that  ?  She  is  the  only  one  now ;  were  there 
anutlier,  I  should  think  of  that  other.  What  is  the  use  of 
such  talk  ?  In  this  lies  the  question,  in  this  the  whole 
evil,  —  that  she  is  the  only  one.  A  year  from  now  a  tile  may 
fall  on  my  head,  or  I  may  find  another  woman  :  what  will 
happen  to-morrow  I  know  not ;  but  that  the  deuce  is  tak- 
ing me  to-day,  I  do  know.  This  is  connected  in  me  with 
otlier  things  too,  of  which  to-day  I  do  not  care  to  speak. 
In  external  life  it  is  necessary  to  eat  bread  in  peace,  —  is 
not  that  true  ?  In  internal  life  it  is  the  same.  And  this  is 
anurgent  affair ;  but  I  defer  internal  life  till  after  marriage, 
for  I  understand  that  new  conditions  work  out  a  new  way 
of  thinking,  and  moreover,  I  wish  to  finish  one  thing  before 
beginning  another.  But  everything  grows  involved,  —  not 
only  involved,  but  vanishes.  Barely  has  something  ap- 
peared when  it  is  gone.  This  is  the  case  now.  I  live  in 
uncertainty.  I  would  prefer  if  they  were  already  betrothed, 
for  then  all  would  end  of  itself." 

*'  I  tell  thee  only  this,"  said  Bigiel :  "  when  I  was  a  boy,  I 
got  a  thorn  in  me  sometimes ;  it  pained  much  less  to  draw 
the  thorn  out  myself  than  to  let  some  one  else  draw  it." 

"In  that  thou  art  right,"  said  Pan  Stanislav,  who  added 
after  a  while,  "The  thorn  may  be  drawn  if  it  has  not  gone 
in  too  deeply,  and  one  can  seize  it.  But  what  are  compari- 
sons !  When  a  thorn  is  drawn  out,  nothing  is  lost ;  but  my 
hope  of  the  future  is  ruined," 

"  That  may  be  true  ;  but  if  there  is  no  help  for  it  ?  " 

"  To  accept  that  view  is  just  what  grieves  the  man  who 
is  not  an  imbecile." 

The  conversation  stopped  here.  At  the  moment  of 
parting  Pan  Stanislav  said,  — 

"By  the  way,  I  should  prefer  not  to  be  with  you  on 
Sunday." 

"  Maybe  thou  wilt  do  well  to  stay  away." 


CHILDREN   OF  THE   SOIL.  109 


CHAPTER  XI. 

A  SURPRISE  was  waiting  at  home  for  Pan  Stanislav ;  he 
found  the  following  despatch  from  Pani  Emilia,  "I  leave 
here  for  home  to-morrow  evening ;  Litka  is  well."  This 
return  was  unexpected,  or  at  least  uncommonly  hurried ; 
but  since  the  despatch  contained  an  assurance  as  to  Litka's 
health,  Pan  Stanislav  understood  that  Pani  Emilia  was 
returning  for  the  sole  purpose  of  occupying  herself  with 
his  affair,  and  his  heart  rose  in  gratitude.  "  There  is  an 
honest  nature,"  said  he  to  himself  ;  "  that  is  a  friend."  And 
with  thankfulness  there  rose  in  his  heart  such  hope,  as  if 
Pani  Emilia  had  the  ring  of  an  enchantress,  or  a  magic 
rod,  with  which  she  could  change  the  heart  of  Panna 
Marynia  in  an  instant.  Pan  Stanislav  did  not  know  clearly 
how  this  could  be  done  ;  but  he  knew  that  one  person  at 
least  wished  him  well  with  deep  sincerity,  would  speak  for 
him,  would  justify  him,  would  exalt  his  heart  and  character 
and  diminish  prejudices,  which  the  course  of  events  had 
accumulated  against  him.  He  calculated  that  Pani  Emilia 
would  be  very  persevering,  and  that  for  her  this  would  be 
a  question  of  duty.  A  man  who  is  troubled  by  something 
is  glad  to  find  a  person  on  whom  to  put  responsibility.  So 
in  moments  of  rising  bitterness,  especially,  it  seemed  to 
Pan  Stanislav  that  Pani  Emilia  was  responsible  for  his 
relations  with  Marynia;  for  if  she  had  not  shown  that 
letter  from  which  Marynia's  readiness  to  love  him  was  evi- 
dent, he  would  have  been  able  to  take  his  mind  and  heart 
from  her.  Perhaps  this  was  true,  since  in  the  history  of . 
his  feelings  this  letter  did  in  fact  play  a  leading  part.  Tt 
showed  him  how  near  happiness  had  been,  almost  securer! ; 
to  what  extent  in  her  own  mind  Marynia  had  given  him  heart 
and  soul.  It  is  more  difficult  to  throw  away  happiness  which 
is  not  only  desired,  but  begun  ;  and,  had  it  not  been  for 
that  letter.  Pan  Stanislav  might  have  regretted  the  past  less, 
forgotten  it  more  easily,  and  reconciled  himself  to  the 
position  more  readily.  At  present  he  thought  it  even  her 
duty  to  help  him  with  all  her  power.  Finally,  he  under- 
stood that  the  affair  would  move,  as  it  were,  of  itself;  he 
hoped  to  see  Marynia  often,  and  in  conditions  most  favor- 


110  CHILDKEN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

able,  since  he  would  see  her  in  a  house  where  he  was  loved 
and  esteemed,  and  where  like  feelings  must  be  communi- 
cated to  each  guest.  All  this  strengthened  Pan  Stanislav's 
hope ;  but  it  added  new  links  to  those  which  bound  his 
thoughts  to  Marynia.  Previously  he  had  promised  himself 
not  to  go  to  Bigiel's  (on  Sunday)  ;  now  he  changed  his 
decision,  thinking  that,  if  only  health  permitted,  Pani  Emilia 
too  would  take  part  in  the  trip.  Aside  from  reasons  con- 
nected with  Marynia,  he  rejoiced  from  his  whole  soul  to 
see  the  beloved  faces  of  Pani  Emilia  and  Litka,  who  were 
his  greatest  attachments  in  life  so  far. 

That  same  evening  he  wrote  a  few  words  to  Plavitski 
touching  the  arrival,  supposing  that  Marynia  would  be 
thankful  for  that  information  ;  he  gave  notice  at  Pani 
Emilia's,  so  that  servants  would  be  waiting  im  the  morning 
with  tea ;  and  he  hired  a  commodious  carriage  to  take  her 
and  Litka  to  their  home. 

Next  morning  at  five  he  was  at  the  station  ;  while  wait- 
ing for  the  train,  he  began  to  run  briskly  along  the  plat- 
form to  warm  himself  somewhat,  since  the  morning  was 
cool.  Remote  objects,  the  station  buildings,  and  the  cars 
standing  on  the  near  rails,  were  sunk  in  fog,  which,  very 
dense  near  the  ground,  became  rose-colored  and  shining 
higher  up,  announcing  that  the  day  would  be  pleasant. 
Except  officials  and  servants,  there  was  no  one  on  the  plat- 
form yet,  because  of  the  early  hour ;  gradually,  however, 
people  began  to  arrive.  All  at  once  two  forms  came  out 
of  the  fog;  in  one  of  these  Pan  Stanislav,  with  beating 
heart,  recognized  Marynia,  who  was  hastening,  with  her 
maid,  to  greet  Pani  Emilia.  As  he  had  not  expected  the 
meeting,  he  was  greatly  confused  at  the  first  moment. 
She  stopped  short,  as  if  astonished  or  troubled.  After  a 
while,  however,  he  approached  and  extended  his  hand  to 
her,  — 

"  Good-day ! "  said  he.  "  And  truly  it  will  be  a  good 
day  for  us  both  if  our  travellers  arrive." 

"  Then  is  it  not  certain  ?  "  asked  Marynia. 

"  Of  course  it  is  certain,  unless  something  unlocked  for 
prevents.  I  received  a  despatch  yesterday,  and  sent  the 
news  to  Pan  Plavitski,  thinking  that  you  would  be  glad  to 
hear  it." 

"  Thank  you.     The  surprise  was  so  pleasant !  " 

"The  best  proof  of  that  is  that  you  have  risen  so  early." 

"  I  have  not  lost  the  habit  of  early  rising  yet." 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  Ill 

"  We  came  too  soon.  The  train  will  arrive  only  in  half 
an  hour.  Meanwhile  I  advise  you  to  walk,  for  the  morn- 
ing is  cool,  though  the  day  promises  to  be  tine." 

"The  fog  is  clearing,"  said  Marynia,  raising  her  blue 
eyes,  which  to  Pan  Stanislav  seemed  violet  in  the  light  of 
the  morning. 

"  Do  you  wish  to  walk  along  the  platform  ?  " 

"  Thank  you ;  I  prefer  to  sit  in  the  waiting-room." 

And,  nodding,  she  went  away.  Pan  Stanislav  began  to 
fly  with  hurried  steps  along  the  platform.  It  was  some- 
what bitter  to  think  that  she  would  not  remain ;  but  he 
explained  to  himself  that  perhaps  this  was  not  proper, 
and,  besides,  the  bitterness  was  overcome  by  the  pleasant 
thought  of  how  the  coming  of  Pani  Emilia  would  bring 
them  nearer,  and  how  many  meetings  it  would  cause. 
A  certain  wonderful  solace  and  good-humor  continued  to 
rise  in  him.  He  thought  of  the  violet  eyes  of  Marynia, 
and  her  face  made  rosy  by  the  coolness  of  the  morning; 
he  rushed  past  the  windows  of  the  hall  in  which  she  was 
sitting,  and  said  to  himself  almost  joyfully,  — 

"  Ah,  ha  !  sit  there,  hide  thyself!  I  will  find  thee."  And 
he  felt  with  greater  force  than  ever  how  dear  she  might 
become  to  him,  if  she  would  be  kind  even  in  a  small  degree. 

Meanwhile  bells  sounded ;  and  a  few  minutes  later,  in  the 
fog,  still  dense  at  the  earth,  though  the  sky  above  was  blue, 
appeared  the  dim  outlines  of  the  train,  which,  as  it  ap- 
proached, became  more  clearly  defined.  The  engine,  pufRng 
interrupted  clumps  of  smoke,  rolled  in  with  decreasing 
movement,  and,  stopping,  began  with  noise  and  hissing  to 
belch  forth  under  its  front  wheels  the  useless  remnant  of 
steam. 

Pan  Stanislav  sprang  to  the  sleeping-car ;  the  first  face 
at  the  window  was  Litka's,  which  at  sight  of  him  grew  as 
radiant  as  if  a  sudden  sunbeam  had  fallen  on  it.  The  little 
girl's  hands  began  to  move  joyously,  beckoning  to  Pan 
Stanislav,  who  was -in  the  car  in  one  moment. 

"  My  dearest  little  kitten !  "  cried  he,  seizing  Litka's 
hand,  "  and  hast  thou  slept ;  art  thou  well  ?  " 

"  I  am  well ;  and  we  have  come  home.  And  we  '11  be 
together  —  and  good-dav,  Pan  Stas  !  " 

Right  behind  the  little  girl  stood  Pani  Emilia,  whose 
hand  "Pan  Stas"  kissed  very  cordially;  and  he  began  to 
speak  quickly,  as  people  do  at  time  of  greeting,  — 

"  Good  day  to  the  dear  lady.   J  have  a  carriage.     You 


112  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL 

can  go  at  once.  My  servant  will  take  your  baggage  ;  L  ask 
only  for  the  check.  They  are  waiting  for  you  at  home 
with  tea.   Pray  give  the  check.    Panna  Plavitski  is  here  too." 

Panna  Plavitski  was  waiting,  in  fact,  outside  the  car ; 
and  she  and  Pani  Emilia  shook  hands,  with  faces  full  of 
smiles.  Litka  looked  for  a  moment  at  Marynia,  as  if  hesi- 
tating ;  after  a  while,  however,  she  threw  herself  on  her 
neck  with  her  usual  cordiality. 

"Marynia,  thou  wilt  go  with  us  to  tea," said  Pani  Emilia. 
"  It  is  ready,  and  thou  art  fasting,  of  course." 

"  Thou  art  tired,  travelling  all  night." 

"  From  the  boundary  we  slept  as  if  killed ;  and  when  we 
woke,  we  had  time  to  wash  and  dress.  In  every  case  we 
must  drink  tea.     Thou  wilt  go  with  us  ?  " 

<'  I  will,  with  the  greatest  pleasure." 

But  Litka  began  to  pull  at  her  mother's  dress. 

"Mamma,  and  Pan  Stas." 

"But,  naturally.  Pan  Stas  too,  —  he  thought  of  every- 
thing. Thanks  to  him,  everything  is  ready.  He  must  go 
with  us,  of  course." 

"  He  must ;  he  must !  "  cried  Litka,  turning  to  Pan  Stan- 
islav,  who  answered,  smiling,  — 

"  Not  he  must ;  but  he  wants  to," 

And  after  a  moment  all  four  took  their  places  in  the  car- 
riage. Pan  Stanislav  was  in  excellent  humor.  Marynia 
was  before  him,  and  at  his  side  little  Litka.  It  seemed  to 
him  that  the  morning  brightness  was  entering  him,  and 
that  better  days  were  beginning.  He  felt  that  henceforth 
he  would  belong  to  an  intimate  circle  of  beings  bound 
together  by  comradeship  and  friendship,  and  in  that  circle 
would  be  Marynia.  Now  she  was  sitting  there  before  him, 
near  his  eye,  and  near  the  friendship  which  both  felt  for 
Pani  Emilia  and  Litka.  Meanwhile  all  four  were  talking 
joyously. 

"What  has  happened,  Emilka,"  asked  Marynia,  "that 
thou  hast  come  so  soon  ? " 

"  Litka  begged  so  every  day  to  come  home." 

"  Dost  not  like  to  live  abroad  ?  "  asked  Pan  Stanislav. 

"No." 

"  Homesick  for  "Warsaw  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"  And  for  me  ?    Now  tell  quickly,  or  it  will  be  bad." 

Litka  looked  at  her  mother,  at  Marynia,  and  then  at  Pan 
Stanislav  j  and  at  last  sha  said,  — 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  113 

"  And  for  Pan  Stas  too." 

"  Take  this  for  that ! "  said  Pan  Stanislav,  and  he  seized 
her  little  hand  to  kiss  it ;  but  she  defended  herself  as  she 
could.  At  last  she  hid  her  hand.  He,  turning  to  Marynia, 
and  showing  his  sound  white  teeth,  said,  — 

"As  you  see,  we  are  always  quarrelling;  -but  we  love 
each  other." 

"  That  is  the  way  generally,"  answered  Marynia. 

And  he,  looking  her  straight  and  honestly  in  the  eyes, 
said,  — 

'*  Oh  that  it  were  the  way  generally  ! " 

Marynia  blushed  slightly  and  grew  more  serious,  but 
said  nothing,  and  began  to  converse  with  Pani  Emilia. 

Pan  Stanislav  turned  to  Litka. 

"  But  where  is  Professor  Vaskovski  ?  Has  he  gone  to 
Italy  ?  " 

"No.  He  stopped  at  Chenstohova,  and  will  come  the 
day  after  to-morrow." 

"Is  he  well?" 

"  He  is." 

Here  the  little  girl  looked  at  her  friend,  and  said,  — 

"  But  Pan  Stas  has  grown  thin ;  has  n't  he,  mamma  ?." 

"Indeed  he  has,"  answered  Pani  Emilia. 

Pan  Stanislav  was  changed  somewhat,  for  he  had  been 
sleeping  badly,  and  the  cause  of  that  sleeplessness  waa 
sitting  before  him  in  the  carriage.  But  he  laid  the  blame 
on  cares  and  labor  in  his  business.  Meanwhile  they 
arrived  at  Pani  Emilia's. 

When  the  lady  went  to  greet  her  servants,  Litka  ran 
after  her.  Pan  Stanislav  and  Marynia  remained  alone  in 
the  dining-room. 

"  You  have  no  nearer  acquaintance  here,  I  suppose,  than 
Pani  Emilia  ?  "  said  Pan  Stanislav. 

"None  nearer;  none  so  beloved." 

"In  life  kindness  is  needed,  and  she  is  very  kind  and 
well-wishing.  I,  for  example,  who  have  no  family,  can 
look  on  this  as  the  house  of  a  relative,  Warsaw  seems  dif- 
ferent to  me  when  they  are  here."  Then  he  added,  with  a 
voice  less  firm,  "This  time  I  comfort  myself  also  with  their 
arrival,  because  there  will  be  at  last  something  mutual  and 
harmonious  between  us." 

Here  he  looked  at  her,  with  a  prayer  in  his  eyes,  as  if  he 
wished  to  say,  "Give  me  a  hand  in  conciliation;  be  kind  to 
me,  too,  since  a  pleasant  day  has  come  to  us." 


114  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

But  she,  just  because  she  could  not  be  for  him  altogether 
indifferent,  went  always  farther  in  the  direction  of  dislike. 
The  more  he  showed  cordial  kindness,  the  more  sympathetic 
he  was,  the  more  his  action  seemed  to  her  unheard  of,  and 
the  more  offended  she  felt  at  heart. 

Having  a  delicate  nature,  and  being,  besides,  rather  timid, 
and  feeling  really  that  a  reply,  if  too  ill-natured,  might 
spoil  the  day's  harmony,  she  preferred  to  be  silent ;  but  he 
did  not  need  an  answer  in  words,  for  he  read  in  her  eyes  as 
follows  :  The  less  you  try  to  improve  our  relations,  the  bet- 
ter they  Avill  be ;  and  they  will  be  best  if  most  distant.  His 
joy  was  quenched  in  one  moment;  anger  took  its  place, 
and  regret,  still  stronger  than  anger,  —  for  it  rose  from  that 
charm  which  nothing  could  conquer,  and  to  which  Pan 
Stanislav  yielded  himself  with  the  conviction,  too,  that  the 
gulf  between  him  and  Marj-nia  was  in  reality  growing 
deeper  each  day.  And  now,  looking  on  her  sweet  and  kind 
face,  he  felt  that  she  was  as  dear  as  she  was  lost  irrecover- 
ably. 

The  arrival  of  Litka  put  an  end  to  that  interval,  grievous 
to  him  beyond  description.  The  little  girl  ran  in  with  great 
delight,  her  hair  in  disorder,  a  smile  on  her  lips ;  but  see- 
ing them,  she  stopped  suddenly,  and  looked  now  at  one, 
now  at  the  other,  with  her  dark  eyes.  At  last  she  sat 
down  quietly  at  a  table  with  tea.  Her  joyousness  had  van- 
ished too,  though  Pan  Stanislav,  confining  the  pain  in  his 
heart,  strove  to  talk  and  be  gladsome. 

But  he  turned  scarcely  any  attention  to  Marynia;  he 
occupied  himself  only  with  Pani  Emilia  and  Litka;  and, 
wonderful  thing  !  Marynia  felt  that  as  an  additional  bitter- 
ness.    To  the  series  of  offences  still  another  was  added. 

On  the  following  day  Pani  Emilia  and  Litka  were  invited 
to  tea  in  the  evening  at  the  Plavitskis'.  Plavitski  invited 
Pan  Stanislav  too,  but  he  did  not  go.  And  such  is  human 
nature  that  this  again  touched  Marynia.  Dislike,  as  well 
as  love,  demands  an  object.  Involuntarily  Marynia  looked 
toward  the  door  all  the  evening,  till  the  hour  struck  in 
which  it  was  certain  that  Pan  Stanislav  would  not  come ; 
then  she  began  to  coquet  so  with  Mashko  that  .she  transfixed 
Pani  Emilia  with  amazement. 


CHILDREN  OF   THE  SOIL.  115 


CHAPTER  XII. 

Mashko  was  a  very  clever  man,  but  full  of  self-love ;  he 
had  no  reason,  however,  not  to  take  the  kindness  which 
Marynia  showed  him  in  good  earnest.  The  unequal  degree 
of  it  he  attributed  a  little  to  coquetting,  a  little  to  the 
changing  disposition  of  the  young  lady ;  and  though  the 
latter  filled  him  with  a  certain  alarm,  this  alarm  was  not 
great  enougli  to  restrain  him  from  taking  a  decisive  step. 

Bigiel  divined  the  true  state  of  affairs  when  he  declared 
that  Mashko  was  in  love.  Sucli  was  the  case  really.  At 
first  Panna  Plavitski  pleased  him  in  a  high  degree ;  after- 
ward, when  he  had  thought  the  pros  and  cons  over,  he  came 
to  the  conviction  that  the  pros  had  prevailed.  The  young 
advocate  valued  property,  it  is  true ;  but,  gifted  with  great 
sobriety  of  mind,  and  understanding  perfectly  the  condi- 
tions in  which  he  found  himself,  he  concluded  that  a  very 
wealthy  lady  he  could  not  find  and  would  not  get.  Richly 
dowered  young  ladies  were  found  either  among  the  aris- 
tocracy of  descent,  —  and  for  him  their  thresholds  were  too 
lofty,  —  or  among  the  world  of  financiers,  who  sought  con- 
nections with  families  bearing  names  more  or  less  famous. 
Mashko  knew  perfectly  that  his  painted  bishops  and  armored 
men,  whom  Bukatski  ridiculed,  would  not  open  bankers' 
safes  to  him.  He  understood  that  even  if  they  had  been 
less  fantastic,  his  profession  of  advocate  would  itself  be 
a  certain  dimlniitio  cajjitis  in  the  eyes  of  great  financial 
whales.  On  the  other  hand,  he  had,  in  truth,  a  certain 
racial  repugnance  to  that  kind  of  connection ;  while  maidens 
of  good  descent  had  the  uncommon  attraction  which  they 
have  for  parvenus  generally. 

Panna  Plavitski  had  no  dower,  or  at  least  a  very  insig- 
nificant one.  In  taking  her,  however,  he  would  free  himself 
from  all  obligations  to  the  Plavitskis  created  by  the  pur- 
chase of  Kremen.  Secondly,  by  connecting  himself  with  a 
good  family,  he  would  endeavor  to  bring  in  a  whole  group 
of  noble  clients,  and  this  might  be  a  very  real  profit ;  finally, 
through  the  family  relations  of  Marynia,  he  might  in  time 
manage  the  business  of  a  number,  or  a  number  of  tens,  of 
really  wealthy  families,  —a  thing  which  had  long  been  the 
object  of  his  efforts. 


116  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

The  Flavitskis,  like  all  who  are  a  little  above  middling 
country  families,  had  indeed  relatives  whom  they  did  not 
greatly  recognize ;  they  had  also  others  who  did  not  greatly 
recognize  them.  This,  however,  was  done  not  so  much  from 
reasons  of  pride  as  involuntarily,  by  virtue  of  a  certain  social 
selection,  through  which  people  seek  in  society  persons  who 
are  more  or  less  in  the  same  conditions  of  life  as  they  them- 
selves are.  Great  family  festivals  united  such  separated 
relatives  temporarily ;  and  Mashko  not  only  found  it  agree- 
able to  think  that  at  his  wedding  there  would  be  perfectly 
well-sounding  names,  but  he  foresaw  various  possible  profits. 
The  question  would  be  merely  one  of  cleverness  to  give 
people  of  this  kind  an  idea  that  it  would  be  well  on  their 
part,  good  and  safe,  to  intrust  their  business  to  a  man 
noted  for  energy,  and,  more  than  all,  one  of  their  own  class, 
since  he  is  a  relative.  That  would  be  something  like  a 
dower  given  to  a  poor  cousin.  Mashko,  taking  note  of  his 
own  qualities,  hoped  to  force  himself  on  them,  and  in  time 
tower  above  them.  He  knew  that  this  man  or  that  would 
come  at  first  to  him  for  such  counsel  as  he  might  find  in 
conversation  with  an  acquaintance,  or  a  distant  relative, 
who  happened  to  understand  various  questions ;  later  on,  as 
the  counsels  proved  good,  he  would  come  oftener,  and  at 
last  put  everything  into  the  hands  of  the  counsellor.  Help- 
ing others  in  this  fashion,  he  could  himself  sail  out  into 
broad  waters,  clear  Kremen  in  time,  advance  to  consider- 
able property,  throw  aside  at  last  legal  pursuits,  which  he 
did  not  like,  and  which  he  considered  only  as  a  means  of 
reaching  his  object,  and  fix  himself  finally  in  lofty  spheres 
of  society  as  an  independent  man,  and  at  the  same  time  a 
representative  of  superior  landed  property  resting  on  a  firm 
basis.  He  had  foreseen  all  this,  calculated  and  counted, 
before  he  determined  to  try  for  the  hand  of  Panna  Plavitski. 

He  had  not  foreseen,  however,  one  thing ;  to  wit,  that  he 
would  fall  in  love  to  such  a  degree  as  he  had.  For  the 
time  this  made  him  angry,  for  he  judged  that  too  strong 
a  feeling  was  something  opposed  to  the  balance  which  a 
man  of  high  society  should  preserve  at  all  times.  That 
balance  was  one  of  his  illusions.  If  he  had  had  no  need 
of  forcing  himself  into  that  society,  or  had  been  born  in 
it,  he  might  have  permitted  himself  to  love  to  his  heart's 
satisfaction. 

In  spite  of  all  his  keenness,  he  had  not  understood  that 
one  of  the  chief  privileges  of  this  society,  which  considers 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  117 

itself  privileged,  is  freedom.  For  this  reason  he  was  not 
altogether  content  when  his  heart  melted  too  much  in 
presence  of  Marynia.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  the  object 
toward  which  he  strove  grew  identihed  the  more  in  him 
with  that  personal  happiness  which  was  verging  almost 
on  intoxication. 

These  were  new  things  for  him,  so  new  that  the  bright- 
ness of  those  unknown  horizons  blinded  him.  Mashko  had 
arrived  at  thirty  and  some  years  of  his  life  without  know- 
ing what  rapture  is.  Now  he  understood  what  happiness 
and  charms  were  described  by  that  word,  for  he  was  en- 
raptured with  Marynia  to  the  depth  of  his  soul.  Whenever 
Plavitski  received  him  in  his  room,  and  she  was  in  the 
adjoining  one,  Mashko  was  with  her  in  thought  to  such  a 
degree  that  hardly  could  he  understand  what  the  old  man 
was  saying. 

When  she  entered,  there  rose  in  his  heart  feelings  utterly 
unknown  to  him  hitherto,  —  feelings  tender  and  delicate, 
which  made  him  a  better  man  than  he  was  usually.  His 
blue  eyes  changed  their  ordinary  steel  and  cold  gleam  to 
an  expression  of  sweetness  and  delight;  the  freckles  on  his 
face,  by  which  he  called  to  mind  Professor  Vaskovski, 
became  still  more  distinct ;  his  whole  form  lost  its  marks 
of  formality,  and  he  passed  his  fingers  through  his  light 
side  whiskers,  not  like  an  English  lord,  but  an  ordinary 
love-stricken  mortal.  He  rose  at  last  so  high  that  he 
wished  not  only  his  own  good,  but  her  good,  evidently  not 
understanding  it  otherwise  than  through  him  and  in  him. 

He  was  so  much  in  love  that,  if  rejected,  he  might  be- 
come dangerous,  especially  in  view  of  his  want  of  moral 
development,  his  great  real  energy,  and  lack  of  scruples. 
Till  then  he  had  not  loved,  and  Marynia  roused  first  in 
him  all  that  was  capable  of  loving.  She  was  not  a  brilliant 
beauty ;  but  she  possessed  in  the  highest  degree  the  charm 
of  womanliness,  and  that  womanliness  was  the  reason  that 
she  attracted  energetic  natures  specially.  In  her  delicate 
form  there  was  something  in  common  with  a  climbing 
plant ;  she  had  a  calm  face,  clear  eyes,  and  a  mouth  some- 
what thoughtful,  —  all  this,  taken  together,  did  not  produce 
a  mighty  impression  at  the  first  glance,  but  after  a  time 
every  man,  even  the  most  indifferent,  saw  that  there  was 
in  her  something  peculiar,  which  made  him  remember  that 
he  had  in  his  presence  a  woman  who  might  be  loved. 

In  so  far  as  Mashko  felt  himself  better  than  usual,  and 


118  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

in  reality  was  so  during  that  epoch  of  his  life,  in  that  fajr 
had  the  spiritual  level  of  Marynia  sunk  since  the  Pla- 
vitskis  came  to  Warsaw.  The  sale  of  Kremen  had  de- 
prived her  of  occupation  and  a  moral  basis  of  life.  She 
lacked  a  lofty  object.  Besides,  the  course  of  events  had 
accumulated  in  her  bitterness  and  dissatisfaction,  which 
turn  always  to  the  injury  of  the  heart.  Marynia  felt  this 
herself  distinctly  ;  and  a  few  days  after  that  evening  when 
Pan  Stanislav  did  not  come  to  them,  she  began  first  to 
speak  of  this  to  Pani  Emilia,  when  at  twilight  they  were 
left  by  themselves  in  the  drawing-room  adjoining  Litka's 
chamber. 

« T  see,"  said  she,  "  that  we  are  not  so  outspoken  with 
each  other  as  we  used  to  be.  I  have  wished  to  speak  with 
thee  openly,  and  I  cannot  bring  myself  to  do  so,  for  it  has 
seemed  to  me  that  I  am  not  worthy  of  thy  friendship." 

Pani  Emilia  brought  her  sweet  face  up  to  Marynia's 
head,  and  began  to  kiss  her  on  the  temples. 

"  Ai,  thou  Marynia,  Marynia !  What  art  thou  saying, 
thou,  always  calm  and  thoughtful  ?  " 

"  I  say  so,  for  in  Kremen  I  was  more  worthy  than  I  am 
now.  Thou  wilt  not  believe  how  attached  I  was  to  that 
corner.  I  had  all  my  days  occupied,  and  had  some  sort  of 
wonderful  hope  that  in  time  something  very  happy  would 
come  to  me.  To-day  all  that  has  passed ;  and  I  cannot  find 
myself  in  this  Warsaw,  and,  what  is  worse,  I  cannot  find 
my  former  honesty.  I  saw  how  astonished  thou  wert  be- 
cause I  was  coquetting  with  Pan  Mashko.  Do  not  tell  me 
that  thou  didst  not  see  it.  And  dost  thou  think  that  I 
myself  know  why  I  acted  so  ?  It  must  be  because  I  am 
worse,  or  from  some  anger  at  myself,  at  Pan  Stanislav,  at 
the  whole  world,  I  do  not  love  Mashko  ;  I  will  not  marry 
him.  Therefore  I  act  dishonestly,  and  with  shame  I  con- 
fess it;  but  moments  come  in  which  I  should  like  to  do  an 
intended  injustice  to  some  one.  Thou  shouldst  break  thy 
old  friendship  with  me,  for  in  truth  I  am  other  than  I 
have  been." 

Here  tears  began  to  roll  down  Marynia's  face,  and  Pani 
Emilia  fell  to  quieting  her  and  fondling  her  all  the  more  ; 
at  last  she  said,  — 

"  Pan  Mashko  is  striving  for  thee  most  evidently ;  and  I 
thought,  1  confess,  that  thou  hadst  the  intention  of  accept- 
ing him.  I  tell  thee  now  sincerely  that  that  pained  me, 
for  he  is  not  the  man  for  thee ;  but,  knowing  thy  love  for 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  119 

Kremen,    I   admitted    thy   wish   to   return   to   it  in   this 
way." 

"  At  first  I  had  such  thoughts,  it  is  true.  I  wished  to 
persuade  myself  that  Pan  Mashko  pleased  me ;  I  did  not 
like  to  repulse  him.  It  was  a  question  with  me  of  some- 
thing else  too,  but  it  was  a  question  also  of  Kremen.  But 
I  could  not  convince  myself.  I  do  not  want  even  Kremen 
at  such  a  price  ;  but  precisely  in  this  lies  the  evil.  For,  in 
such  a  case,  why  am  I  leading  Pan  Mashko  into  error,  why 
am  I  deluding  him  ?     Through  simple  dishonesty." 

"It  is  not  well  that  thou  art  deluding  him  ;  but  it  seems 
to  me  that  I  understand  whence  that  flows.  From  repug- 
nance to  some  one  else,  and  from  the  offence  given  by  him 
Is  it  not  true  ?  Console  thyself,  however,  with  this, 
that  the  evil  is  not  beyond  remedy ;  for  thou  mayst  change 
thy  action  with  Pan  ^lashko  to-morrow.  And,  jNIarynia,  it  is 
needful  to  change  it  while  there  is  time  yet,  while  nothing 
is  promised." 

"  I  know,  Emilia ;  I  understand  that.  But  see,  when  I  am 
with  thee  I  feel  as  formerly,  like  an  upright  and  honest 
woman  ;  I  understand,  that  not  only  a  word  binds,  but  con- 
duct.    And  he  may  say  that  to  me." 

"Then  tell  him  that  thou  hast  tried  to  convince  thyself 
that  thou  wert  in  love  with  him,  but  could  not.  In  every 
case,  that  is  the  only  way." 

Silence  followed  ;  but  both  Marynia  and  Pani  Emilia  felt 
that  they  had  not  begun  yet  to  talk  of  that  which,  if  it  did 
not  concern  both,  concerned  Pani  Emilia  most  seriously. 
So,  taking  Marynia's  hands,  she  said,  — 

"Now  confess,  ]\rarynia,  thou  art  coquetting  with  Mashko 
because  thou  art  offended  by  Pan  Stanislav  ?  " 

"  That  is  true,"  answered  Marynia,  in  a  low  voice. 

"  But  does  not  this  mean  that  the  impression  of  his  visit 
to  Kremen,  and  of  thy  first  conversations  with  him,  are  not 
effaced  yet  ?  " 

"  Better  if  it  were." 

Pani  Emilia  began  to  stroke  her  dark  hair.  "Thou  wilt 
not  believe  how  good,  clever,  and  noble  a  man  he  is.  For  us 
he  has  some  friendship.  He  has  liked  Litka  always ;  this 
makes  me  grateful  from  my  whole  soul  to  him.  But  thou 
knowest  what  an  uiiardent  and  lukewarm  feeling  friendship 
is  usually.  He  in  this  regard  even  is  exceptional.  When 
Litka  was  sick  in  Eeichenhall,  wilt  thou  believe  it,  he 
brought  a  celebrated  doctor  from   Monachium  ;    but,   not 


120  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

wishing  to  alarm  us,  he  said  that  the  doctor  had  come  to 
another  patient,  and  that  we  should  take  advantage  of  his 
presence.  Think  what  care  and  kindness !  He  is  extremely 
reliable,  a  man  to  be  trusted;  and  he  is  energetic  and  just. 
There  are  intelligent  men,  but  without  energy  ;  others  have 
energy,  but  lack  delicacy  of  heart.  He  unites  one  to  the 
other.  I  forgot  to  tell  thee  that  when  Litka's  property  was 
in  danger,  and  when  my  husband's  brother  set  about  saving 
it,  he  found  the  greatest  aid  in  Pan  Stanislav.  Tf  Litka 
were  grown  up,  I  would  give  her  to  no  one  in  the  world  with 
such  confidence  as  to  him.  I  could  not  even  recount  to  you 
how  much  kindness  we  have  experienced  from  him." 
"  If  as  much  as  I  have  of  evil,  then  very  much." 
"  Marynia,  he  did  not  intend  that.  If  thou  couldst  but 
know  how  he  suffers  for  his  rashness,  and  how  sincerely  he 
acknowledges  his  fault  touching  thee." 

"  He  told  me  that  himself,"  answered  Marynia.  "  I,  my 
Emilka,  have  pondered  much  over  this,  —  to  tell  the  truth,  I 
have  not  thought  of  another  thing ;  and  I  cannot  find  that 
he  is  to  blame.  In  Kremen  he  was  so  pleasant  that  it 
seemed  to  me  —  to  thee  alone  will  I  say  this  ;  for  to  thee 
I  have  written  it  already  —  that  on  the  Sunday  evening 
which  he  passed  in  our  house  I  went  to  sleep  with  my  head 
and  heart  so  filled  with  him  that  I  am  ashamed  to  speak  of  it 
now.  And  I  felt  that  one  day  longer,  one  friendly  word 
more  on  his  part,  and  I  should  love  him  for  my  lifetime. 
It  seemed  to  me  that  he  also  —  The  next  day  he  went  away 
in  anger.  The  fault  was  my  father's ;  it  was  mine  also.  I 
was  able  to  understand  that ;  and  dost  remember  the  letter 
I  wrote  thee  at  Reichenhall  ?  Precisely  the  same  trust 
which  thou  hast  in  him,  I  too  had.  He  went  away  ;  I  my- 
self do  not  know  why  I  thought,  that  he  would  return,  or 
would  write  to  me.  He  did  not  return ;  he  did  not  write. 
Something  told  me  that  he  would  not  take  away  Kremen  ; 
he  took  it.  And  afterward  —  I  know  that  Pan  Mashko 
talked  with  him  openly,  and  he  urged  Pan  Mashko,  and 
assured  him  that  he  was  thinking  of  nothing  himself.  Oh, 
my  Emilia  !  If  it  please  thee,  he  is  not  to  blame  ;  but  how 
much  harm  has  he  done  to  me  !  Through  him  I  have  lost 
not  only  a  beloved  corner  in  which  I  was  working ;  but 
more,  I  have  lost  faith  in  life,  in  people,  in  this,  —  that  better 
and  nobler  things  in  this  world  conquer  the  low  and  the 
evil.  I  have  become  worse.  I  tell  thee  sincerely  that  I 
cannot  find  myself.    He  had  the  right  to  act  as  he  has  acted. 


CHILDREN  OF  THE   SOIL.  121 

I  admit  that ;  I  say  so,  and  do  not  say  that  he  is  guilty. 
But  he  has  broken  some  vital  spring  in  me.  There  is  no 
cure  for  that ;  it  cannot  be  mended.  How  can  it  ?  Wliat  is 
it  to  me  that  a  cliauge  rose  in  him  afterward ;  that  he  regrets 
what  he  did  ;  that  he  would  be  ready  even  to  marry  me  ? 
What  is  that  to  nie,  if  I,  who  almost  loved  him,  not  only  do 
not  love  him  now,  but  must  guard  against  repugnance  ? 
That  is  worse  than  if  I  did  not  care  for  him.  I  know  what 
thy  Avish  is;  but  life  must  be  built  on  love,  not  on  re- 
pugnance. How  can  1  give  my  hand  to  him  with  that 
feeling  of  otfence  in  my  soul  and  with  that  regret,  that 
through  him,  guilty  or  not  guilty,  so  much  has  been  lost 
to  me  ?  Thou  thinkest  that  I  do  not  see  his  charm ;  but 
what  can  I  do,  when  the  more  I  see  him,  the  more  I  am 
repulsed,  and  if  I  had  to  choose  I  should  choose  Fan 
Masliko,  though  he  is  less  worthy  ?  To  everything  good 
which  thou  canst  say  of  him  I  agree ;  but  to  everything  I 
answer :  I  do  not  love  him  ;  I  never  will  love  him." 

Pani  Emilia's  eyes  were  filled  with  tears.  ''Poor  Pan 
Stas,"  said  she,  as  if  to  herself.  And  after  a  moment  of 
silence  she  asked,  ''And  art  thou  not  sorry  for  him  ?" 

"I  am  sorry  for  him  when  I  think  of  him  as  he  was  in 
Kremen ;  I  am  sorry  for  him  when  I  do  not  see  him.  But 
from  the  moment  that  I  see  him,  I  feel  nothing  but  — 
repulsion." 

"  Yes  ;  because  thou  knowest  not  how  unhappy  he  was  in 
Reichenhall,  and  now  he  is  still  more  unhappy.  He  has  no 
one  in  the  world." 

"  He  has  thy  friendship,  and  he  loves  Litka." 

"My  Marynia,  that  is  something  different.  I  am  thank- 
ful to  him  from  my  whole  soul  for  his  attachment  to  Litka; 
but  that  is  sometliing  different  altogether,  and  thou  knowest 
thyself  that  he  loves  thee  a  hundred  times  more  than 
Litka." 

In  the  chamber  it  had  grown  dark  already ;  but  soon  the 
servant  brought  in  a  lamp,  and,  placing  it  on  the  table, 
went  out.  By  the  lamplight  Pani  Emilia  beheld  a  whitish 
form  crouched  on  the  sofa  near  the  door  which  led  to  Litka's 
room. 

"  Who  is  there  ?     Is  that  Litka  ?  " 

"  I,  mamma." 

In  her  voice  there  was  something ;  Pani  Emilia  rose  and 
went  hurriedly  toward  her. 

"When  didst  thou  come  out ?     What  is  the  matter ? " 


122  CHILDREN  OF   THE  SOIL. 

"I  feel  so  ill  in  some  way." 

Pani  Emilia  sat  down  on  the  sofa,  and,  drawing  the  little 
girl  up  to  her,  saw  tears  in  her  eyes. 

"  Art  thou  crying,  Litus  ?     What  is  the  matter  ?  " 

"  Oh,  so  sad,  so  sad !  " 

And,  inclining  her  head  to  her  mother's  shoulder,  *  she 
began  to  cry.  She  was  in  reality  sad,  for  she  had  learned 
that  "  Pan  Stas "  was  more  unhapiw  than  in  Reichenhall, 
and  that  he  loves  Marynia  a  hundred  times  more  than  her. 
That  evening,  when  going  to  sleep  and  in  her  nightdress, 
she  nestled  up  to  her  mother's  ear  and  whispered,  — 

"Mamma,  mamma,  I  have  one  very  great  sin  on  my 
conscience." 

"  My  poor  little  girl,  what  is  troubling  thee  ?  " 

She  whispered  in  a  still  lower  voice,  "  I  do  not  like 
Panna  Marynia." 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  123 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

Pani  Emilia,  with  Litka  and  Marynia,  and  with  them 
Plavitski,  were  going  to  the  Bigiels  to  dine  at  their  country 
house,  which  stood  in  a  forest  at  the  distance  of  one  hour 
and  a  half  from  the  city.  It  was  a  fine  day  in  September ; 
there  were  myriads  of  glittering  spider-webs  in  the  air  and 
on  the  stubbles.  Leaves  still  fresh  and  green  adhered  to 
the  trees  yet ;  here  and  there,  through  leafy  openings,  were 
visible  as  it  were  fountains  and  bouquets  of  red  and  yellow. 
That  pale  and  faded  autumn  brought  to  Marynia's  mind  her 
occupations  in  the  country,  the  odor  of  grain  in  the  barns, 
the  fields  with  stacks,  and  the  clear  extent  of  the  meadows, 
bounded  way  off  somewhere  on  the  horizon  by  stretches  of 
alder.  She  felt  a  yearning  for  that  life  and  that  compos- 
ure, in  comparison  with  which  the  city,  notwithstanding 
the  labor  which  seethed  in  its  every-day  existence,  but 
which  Marynia  was  unable  to  appreciate,  seemed  to  her 
idle  and  empty.  She  felt  now  that  that  life  in  which  she 
had  found  her  own  worth  and  merit  was  lost  beyond  return 
to  her,  and  on  the  other  hand  there  was  not  outlined  before 
her  anything  that  could  take  its  place  and  redeem  it.  She 
might,  it  is  true,  return  by  becoming  Pani  Mashko ;  but  her 
heart  was  filled  with  bitterness  at  that  thought  alone,  and 
Mashko,  with  his  Warsaw  self-confidence,  with  his  freckles 
and  his  side  whiskers,  with  his  aping  an  English  lord, 
seemed  to  her  simply  repulsive.  Never  had  she  felt  withal 
a  deeper  feeling  against  Pan  Stanislav,  who  had  taken 
Kremen  from  her,  and  put  Mashko  in  place  of.  it.  She  was 
disgusted  with  Mashko  at  that  moment,  and  it  seemed  to  her 
that  she  hated  Pan  Stanislav,  She  saw  before  her  life  with 
her  father  on  the  pavement  of  Warsaw,  without  an  object, 
without  occupation,  without  an  ideal,  with  regret  for  the 
past  and  in  view  of  the  past,  and  with  emptiness  in  the 
future.  Por  this  reason  that  calm  autumn  day,  instead  of 
quieting  her,  filled  her  with  bitterness  and  sorrow.  On 
the  whole,  the  journey  was  not  joyous.  Litka  sat  in  gloom 
because  "Pan  Stas"  was  not  with  them.  Pani  Emilia  gave 
all  attention  to  her,  fearing  lest  that  gloomy  feeling  might 
be   connected   with  her  health.      Plavitski   alone   was   in 


124  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

creniiine  good-humor,  especially  at  the  beginning  of  the 
purney.  In  his  buitoned  frock-coat,  with  a  red  flower  in 
the  buttonhole,  with  a  light-colored  overcoat,  and  with 
mustaches  as  pointed  as  needles,  he  thought  himself  beauti- 
ful, and  was  sprightly,  since  rheumatism,  which  he  felt  at 
tim'es,  was  not  troubling  him,  by  reason  of  the  good  weather ; 
secondly,  before  him  sat  one  of  the  most  presentable  women 
in  Warsaw,  who,  as  he  supposed,  would  not  remain  indiffer- 
ent to  so  many  charms,  or  in  any  case  would  esteem  them 
in  so  far  as  she  would  be  able  to  note  them.  Let  her  say 
at  least  to  herself,  "  Oh,  what  a  charming  man  that  must 
have  been  !  "  In  the  worst  event,  Plavitski  would  have  been 
satisfied  with  such  a  retrospective  recognition.  In  this 
hope  he  was  really  enchanting ;  for  at  one  time  he  was  lofty 
and  fatherly,  at  another  sportive,  setting  out  with  the 
theory  that  young  men  of  the  present  do  not  know  how  to 
act  politely  with  ladies.  In  politeness,  as  he  told  Pani 
Emilia,  he  went  as  far  as  mythology,  which  was  true  under 
a  certain  aspect,  for  he  looked  at  her  as  would  a  satyr. 

But  all  this  was  received  with  a  faint  smile  and  with  too 
little  attention,  hence  he  grew  offended  at  last  and  began 
to  speak  of  something  else ;  namely,  that,  thanks  to  the  rela- 
tions of  his  daughter,  he  would  become  acquainted  with  the 
bourgeoisie,  of  which  he  was  glad,  however,  for  hitherto  he 
had  seen  that  society  only  on  the  stage,  but  it  is  necessary 
in  life  to  meet  the  most  varied  kinds  of  people,  for  it  is 
possible  to  learn  something  from  each  of  them.  He  added 
finally,  that  it  is  the  duty  of  certain  circles  not  to  estrange 
the  commonalty,  but  on  the  contrary  to  gather  them  in,  and 
thus  plant  in  them  sound  principles ;  therefore  he  who  had 
striven  always  to  fulfil  his  social  duties  did  not  halt 
before  that  mission.  Here  the  noble  expression  of  his  face 
took  on  a  certain  style  of  pensiveness,  and  in  that  state  of 
feeling  they  drove  up  to  the  villa  of  the  Bigiels. 

It  stood  in  a  forest  of  iinmixed  pines,  in  the  neighborhood 
of  other  villas,  among  old  trees,  which  in  places  were  felled, 
in  places  standing  in  groups  of  a  few,  or  of  a  few  tens. 
They  seemed  to  wonder  a  little  what  such  a  new  house  was 
doing  among  them  in  the  old  forest  stillness;  but  they 
hospitably  shielded  it  from  the  wind  ;  on  fine  days  they  sur- 
rounded it  with  balsamic  air,  permeated  with  the  odor  of 
gum  and  resin. 

The  Bigiels,  with  a  row  of  children,  came  out  to  meet  the 
guests.    Pani  Bigiel,  who  liked  Marynia  much,  greeted  her 


CHILDREN   OF  THE   SOIL.  125 

very  cordially,  desiring,  besides,  to  prepossess  her  thereby 
for  Pan  Stanislav ;  she  considered  that  the  better  Marynia 
understood  how  pleasant  it  might  be  for  her  among  them, 
the  less  difficulty  would  she  make. 

Plavitski,  who,  during  his  previous  stay  with  Marynia  in 
Warsaw,  had  made  the  acquaintance  of  the  Bigiels  at  Pani 
Emilia's,  but  had  limited  himself  to  leaving  cards  with  them 
simply,  showed  himself  now  such  a  gracious  prince  as  was 
possible  only  to  the  most  refined  man,  who  at  the  same  time 
was  fulfilling  his  mission  of  gathering  in  the  "bourgeoisie." 

"  At  the  present  day  it  is  agreeable  for  any  man  to  find 
himself  under  the  roof  of  a  person  like  you ;  but  all  the 
more  for  me,  since  my  cousin,  Polanyetski,  has  entered  the 
career  of  commerce  and  is  your  partner." 

"  Polanyetski  is  a  strong  man,"  answered  Bigiel,  with 
directness,  pressing  the  gloved  hand  of  Plavitski. 

The  ladies  retired  for  a  moment  to  remove  their  hats ; 
then,  the  air  being  quite  warm,  they  returned  to  the 
veranda. 

"Is  Pan  Stanislav  not  here  yet?"  inquired  Pani  Emilia. 

"  He  has  been  here  since  morning,"  answered  Bigiel ; 
"but  now  he  is  visiting  Pani  Kraslavski.  The  place  is 
near  by,"  added  he,  turning  to  Marynia ;  "  not  even  half  a 
verst  distant.  There  are  summer  residences  everywhere 
about,  and  those  ladies  are  our  nearest  neighbors." 

"  I  remember  Panna  Terka  Kraslavski  since  the  time  of 
the  carnival,"  said  Marynia.  "  She  was  always  very 
pale." 

"  Oh,  she  is  very  pale  yet.  The  past  winter  she  spent  in 
Pau." 

Meanwhile  the  little  Bigiels,  who  loved  Litka  wonderfully, 
drew  her  out  to  play  in  front  of  the  house.  The  little  girls 
showed  her  their  gardens,  made  in  the  sand  among  the 
pines,  in  which  gardens,  to  tell  the  truth,  nothing  would 
grow.  These  surveys  were  interrupted  every  little  wliile 
by  the  girls,  who  stood  on  their  toes  and  kissed  Litka's 
cheeks;  she,  bending  her  beautiful  flaxen  head,  returned 
these  kisses  with  tenderness. 

But  the  boys  wanted  their  share  as  well.  First,  they 
stripped  to  the  stalk  the  georgina  at  the  house,  gathering 
for  Litka  the  most  beautiful  blossoms ;  then  they  disputed 
about  this,  —  what  play  does  Litka  like  ;  and  they  went  to 
Pani  Emilia  for  information.  Edzio,  who  had  the  habit  of 
speaking  in  a  very  loud  voice,  and  closing  his  eyes  at  the 
same  time,  called  out,  — 


126  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

"Please,  Pani,  I  say  that  she  likes  ball  better,  only  I 
don't  know  that  you  will  let  her  play  ball." 

"  Yes  ;  if  she  will  not  run,  for  that  hurts  her." 

"  Oh,  she  will  not,  Pani ;  Ave  will  throw  the  ball  so  that 
it  will  go  straight  to  her  every  time,  then  she  Avill  not  run 
any.  And  if  Yozio  does  n't  know  how  to  throw  that  way, 
let  her  throw  the  ball." 

'■  I  want  to  play  with  her,"  said  Yozio,  pitifully.  And 
at  the  very  thought  that  he  might  be  deprived  of  that 
pleasure,  his  mouth  took  the  form  of  a  horseshoe  and  began 
to  quiver;  but  Litka  anticipated  his  outburst  of  sorrow, 
saying,  — 

"  I  will  throw  to  thee,  Yozio ;  I  '11  throw  to  thee  very 
often." 

Yozio's  eyes,  already  moist,  began  to  smile  at  once. 

"They  will  not  hurt  her,"  said  Bigiel  to  Pani  Emilia. 
"  This  is  remarkable :  the  boys  are  what  is  called  regular 
tearers ;  but  with  her  they  are  wonderfully  careful.  It  is 
Pan  Stanislav  who  has  trained  them  in  this  devotion  to 
her." 

"  Such  lovely  children !  there  are  few  in  the  world  like 
them,"  remarked  Pani  Emilia. 

In  a  moment  the  children  gathered  in  a  group  to  arrange 
the  play.  In  the  middle  of  the  group  stood  Litka,  the 
oldest  and  the  tallest ;  and  though  the  little  Bigiels  were 
well-behaved  children,  she,  with  her  sweet,  poetic  face 
and  features,  almost  over-refined,  seemed,  among  those 
ruddy,  round  faces,  like  a  being  from  another  planet.  Pani 
Bigiel  turned  attention  to  that  first  of  all. 

"  Is  she  not  a  real  queen  ?  "  asked  she.  "  I  say  truly 
that  never  can  I  look  at  her  sufficiently." 

"  She  is  so  noble  in  appearance,"  added  Bigiel. 

And  Pani  Emilia  looked  at  her  only  one  with  a  glance 
in  which  there  was  a  sea  of  love.  The  children  ran  apart 
now,  and  stood  in  a  great  circle  forming,  on  the  gray  back- 
ground of  fallen  pine  needles,  parti-colored  spots,  which 
seemed  as  small  under  the  immense  pines  as  colored 
mushrooms. 

Marjmia  went  from  the  veranda  and  stood  near  Litka,  to 
assist  her  in  catching  the  ball,  for  which  it  was  necessary 
to  run,  and  in  that  way  save  her  from  exertion. 

On  the  broad  forest  road  leading  to  the  villa,  Pan  Stanis- 
lav appeared  at  that  moment.  The  children  did  not  notice 
him  at  once  ;  but  he  took  in  with  a  glance  the  veranda,  as 


CHILDREN   OF  THE   SOIL.  127 

well  as  the  space  iii  front;  and,  seeing  the  bright  robe  of 
Marynia  under  a  pine,  he  hastened  his  steps.  Litka,  know- 
ing lier  mamma's  alarm  at  every  more  animated  movement 
which  she  made,  and,  not  wishing  to  disquiet  her  for  any- 
thing, stood  almost  without  stirring  from  her  place,  and 
caught  on  her  club  only  those  balls  which  came  directly 
toward  her.  Marynia  ran  after  all  that  went  farther.  By 
reason  of  that  running,  her  hair  was  loosened  so  that  she 
had  to  arrange  it ;  and,  at  the  moment  when  Pan  Stanislav 
was  coming  in  at  the  gate,  she  stood  bent  backward  some- 
what and  with  arms  raised  to  her  head. 

He  did  not  take  his  eyes  from  her,  and  saw  no  one  save 
her.  She  seemed  to  him  on  that  broad  space  younger  and 
smaller  than  usual,  and  therewith  so  maidenlike,  so  unap- 
proachably attractive,  so  created  for  this,  that  a  man  should 
put  his  arms  around  her  and  press  her  to  his  bosom ;  she 
was  so  feminine,  so  much  the  dearest  creature  on  earth,  — 
that  never  till  that  moment  had  he  felt  with  such  force 
how  he  loved  her. 

At  sight  of  him,  the  children  threw  down  their  balls  and 
clubs,  and  ran  with  a  cry  to  meet  him.  The  amusement 
was  stopped.  Litka  at  the  first  instant  sprang  also  toward 
Pan  Stas,  but  restrained  herself  on  a  sudden,  and  looked 
with  her  great  eyes,  now  toward  him,  now  toward  Marynia. 

"  But  thou  art  not  rushing  to  meet  Pan  Polanyetski," 
said  Marynia. 

"No." 

"  Why,  Litus  ?  " 

"  Because  —  " 

And  her  cheeks  flushed  somewhat,  though  the  child  did 
not  know  and  did  not  dare  to  express  her  thought,  which 
might  be  expressed  in  the  words:  "Because  he  does  not  love 
ine  any  more  ;  he  loves  only  thee,  and  looks  only  at  thee." 

But  he  approached,  freeing  himself  from  the  children, 
and  repeating,  — 

"  Do  not  hang  on,  little  rogues,  or  I  '11  throw  you." 

And  he  extended  his  hand  to  Marynia,  looking  at  her  in 
the  eyes,  with  an  entreaty  for  a  pleasant  smile  and  a  greet- 
ing even  a  whit  less  indifferent  than  usual ;  then  he  turned 
to  Litka,  — 

"  But  is  the  dearest  kitten  well  ?  " 

At  sight  of  him,  and  under  the  influence  of  his  voice,  she, 
forgetting  all  the  suffering  of  her  little  heart,  gave  hira 
both  hands,  saying,  — 


128  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

"  Oh,  yes,  well ;  but  yesterday  Pan  Stas  did  not  come  to 
us,  and  it  was  sad.  To-day  I  '11  take  Fan  Stas  to  mamma  to 
give  account." 

After  a  while  all  were  on  the  veranda. 

<'  How  are  Fani  Kraslavski  and  her  daughter  ?  "  asked 
Pani  Emilia. 

"  They  are  well,  and  are  coming  here  after  dinner," 
answered  Pan  Stanislav. 

Just  before  dinner  Professor  Vaskovski  came,  bringing 
Bukatski,  who  had  returned  to  Warsaw  the  evening  before. 
His  intimacy  with  the  Bigiels  permitted  him  to  come  with- 
out being  invited  ;  and  the  presence  of  Pani  Emilia  was  too 
great  a  temptation  to  be  resisted.  He  met  her,  however, 
without  a  trace  of  sentiment,  in  his  usual  jesting  fashion  ; 
she  was  glad  to  see  him,  for  he  amused  her  with  his 
strange  and  original  way  of  uttering  ideas. 

"  Were  you  not  going  to  Monachium  and  Italy  ?  "  asked 
she,  when  they  liad  sat  down  to  dinner. 

"  Yes ;  but  I  forgot  a  card-knife  in  Warsaw,  and  came 
back  to  get  it." 

"Oh,  that  was  a  weighty  reason." 

"It  always  makes  me  impatient  that  people  do  every- 
thing from  weighty  reasons.  What  privilege  have  weighty 
reasons,  that  every  man  must  accommodate  himself  to 
them  ?  Besides,  I  gave,  without  wishing  it,  the  last  ser- 
vices to  a  friend,  for  yesterday  I  was  at  the  funeral  of 
Lisovich." 

''  What!  that  thin  little  sportsman  ?"  inquired  Bigiel. 

"  The  same.  And  imagine  that  to  this  moment  I  can- 
not escape  astonishment  that  a  man  who  played  the  jester 
all  his  life  could  bring  himself  to  such  a  serious  thing  as 
death.  Simply  I  cannot  recognize  my  Lisovich.  At  every 
step  a  man  meets  disappointment." 

"But,"  said  Pan  Stanislav,  "Pani  Kraslavski  told  me 
that  Ploshovski,  he  with  whom  all  the  women  of  Warsaw 
were  in  love,  shot  himself  in  Rome." 

"  He  was  a  relative  of  mine,"  said  Plavitski. 

This  news  affected  Pani  Emilia  mainly.  She  scarcely 
knew  Ploshovski  himself,  but  she  had  often  seen  his 
aunt,  for  whom  her  husband's  elder  brother  was  agent. 
She  knew  also  how  blindly  this  aunt  loved  her  sister's 
son. 

"  My  God,  what  a  misfortune !  "  said  she.  "  But  is  it 
true  ?  A  young  man  so  capable,  so  wealthy  —  poor  Panna 
Ploshovski ! " 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  129 

"  And  such  a  great  estate  will  be  without  an  heir,"  added 
Bigiel.  "I  know  their  property,  for  it  is  near  Warsaw. 
Old  Paiina  Ploshovski  had  two  relatives  :  Pani  Krovitski, 
though  she  was  distant,  and  Leo  Ploshovski,  who  was 
nearer.     Neither  are  living  now." 

These  words  moved  Plavitski  again.  He  was  indeed 
some  sort  of  a  distant  relative  of  Panna  Ploshovski,  and 
even  had  seen  her  two  or  three  times  in  his  life ;  but  there 
remained  to  him  merely  the  remembrance  of  fear,  for  she 
had  told  him  the  bitter  truth  each  time  without  circumlo- 
cution, or  rather,  speaking  simply,  had  scolded  him  as 
much  as  he  could  hold.  For  this  reason,  in  the  further 
course  of  his  life  he  avoided  her  most  carefully,  and  all 
communication  between  them  was  stopped,  though  on  occa- 
sions he  liked  to  say  a  word  in  society  of  his  relationship 
with  a  family  so  well  known  and  important.  He  belonged 
to  that  category  of  people,  numerous  in  our  country,  who 
are  convinced  that  the  Lord  God  created  for  their  special 
use  an  easy  road  to  fortune  through  inheritance,  and  who 
consider  every  hope  of  that  kind  as  certain.  He  cast  a 
solemn  glance,  therefore,  on  the  assembly,  and  said,  — 

"  Perhaps,  too.  Providence  decided  that  those  properties 
should  pass  to  other  hands,  which  are  able  to  make  better 
use  of  them." 

"I  met  Ploshovski  abroad  once,"  said  Pan  Stanislav; 
"  and  on  me  he  made  the  impression  of  a  man  altogether 
uncommon.     I  remember  him  perfectly." 

"He  was  so  brilliant  and  sympathetic,"  added  Pani 
Bigiel. 

"  May  God  show  him  mercy !  "  said  Professor  Vaskovski. 
"  I  too  knew  him ;  he  was  a  genuine  Aryan." 

"Azoryan,"  said  Plavitski. 

"  Aryan,"  repeated  the  professor. 

"  Azoryan,"  corrected  Plavitski,  with  emphasis  and  dig- 
nity. 

And  the  two  old  men  looked  at  each  other  with  astonish- 
ment, neither  knowing  what  the  other  wanted,  and  this  to 
the  great  delight  of  Bukatski,  who,  raising  his  monocle, 
said, — 

"  How  is  that,  Aryan  or  Azoryan  ?  " 

Pan  Stanislav  put  an  end  to  the  misunderstanding  by 
explaining  that  Azorya  was  the  name  of  the  family  escut- 
cheon of  the  Ploshovskis,  that  therefore  it  was  possible  to 
be  at  once  an  Aryan  and  an  Azoryan;  to  which  Plavitski 

a 


130  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

agreed  unwillingly,  making  the  parenthetical  remark  that 
whoso  bears  a  decent  name,  need  not  be  ashamed  of  it,  uor 
modify  it. 

Bukatski,  turning  to  Pani  Emilia,  began  to  converse  m 
his  usual  frigid  tone,  — 

"One  kind  of  suicide  alone  do  I  consider  justifiable, 
suicide  for  love;  therefore  I  am  persuading  myself  for  a 
number  of  years  to  it,  but  always  in  vain." 

"  They  say  that  suicide  is  cowardice,"  put  in  Marynia. 

"  This  is  a  reason  too  why  I  do  not  take  my  life  :  I  am 
excessively  brave." 

"  Let  us  not  speak  of  death,  but  of  life,"  said  Bigiel, 
"  and  of  that  which  is  best  in  it,  health.  To  the  health  of 
Pani  Emilia ! " 

"  And  Litka,"  added  Pan  Stanislav. 

Then  he  turned  to  Marynia  and  said,  "To  the  health  of 
our  mutual  friends  ! " 

"  Most  willingly,"  answered  Marynia. 

Then  he  lowered  his  voice  and  continued,  "  For  see,  I 
consider  them  not  only  as  friends  of  mine,  but  also  —  how 
is  it  to  be  expressed  ? —  as  advocates.  Litka  is  a  child  yet, 
but  Pani  Emilia  knows  to  whom  friendship  may  be  offered. 
Therefore  if  a  certain  person  had  a  prejudice  against  me, 
even  justly ;  if  I  had  acted  with  that  person  not  precisely 
as  I  should,  or  simply  ill,  and  if  that  person  knew  me  to  be 
suffering  from  my  act,  —  that  person  ought  to  think  that  I 
am  not  the  worst  of  men,  since  Pani  Emilia  has  sincere 
good-will  for  me." 

Marynia  was  confused  at  once ;  she  was  sorry  for  him. 
He  finished  in  a  still  lower  voice,  — 

*'  But  in  truth  I  am  suffering.  This  is  a  great  question 
for  me." 

Before  she  had  answered,  Plavitski  raised  a  health  to  Pani 
Bigiel,  and  made  a  whole  speech,  the  substance  of  which 
was  that  the  Queen  of  Creation  is  no  other  than  woman ; 
therefore  all  heads  should  incline  before  woman,  as  the 
queen,  and,  for  this  reason,  he  had  bowed  down  all  his  life 
before  woman  in  general,  and  at  present  he  bowed  before 
Pani  Bigiel  in  particular. 

Pan  Stanislav  from  his  soul  wished  him  to  choke,  for  he 
felt  that  he  might  have  received  some  kind  word  from 
Marynia,  and  he  felt  that  the  moment  had  passed.  In  fact, 
Marynia  went  to  embrace  Pani  Bigiel ;  on  her  return  she 
did  not  resume  the  interrupted  conversation,  and  he  dared 
not  ask  her  directly  for  an  answer. 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  131 

Immediately  after  dinner  came  Pani  and  Panna  Kraslav- 
ski :  the  mother,  a  woman  about  fifty  years  old,  animated, 
self-confident,  talkative ;  the  daughter,  the  complete  oppo- 
site of  her  mother,  formal,  dry,  cold,  pronouncing  "tek," 
instead  of  "  tak,"  but  for  the  rest  with  a  full,  though  pale 
face,  reminding  one  somewhat  of  the  faces  of  Holbein's 
Madonnas. 

Pan  Stanislav  began  out  of  malice  to  entertain  her ;  but, 
looking  from  time  to  time  at  the  fresh  face  and  blue  eyes 
of  Marynia,  he  said  to  himself,  "  If  thou  hadst  given  even 
one  kind  word  !  thou,  —  thou,  the  pitiless."  And  he  grew 
more  and  more  angry,  so  that  when  Panna  Kraslavski  said 
"  memme  "  instead  of  "  mamma,"  he  inquired  harshly,  — 

"  Who  is  that  ?  " 

"  Memme,"  however,  displayed  her  whole  supply  of  facts, 
or  rather  suppositions,  concerning  the  suicide  of  Ploshovski. 

"  Imagine,"  said  she,  with  warmth,  "  it  came  to  my  head  at 
once  that  he  shot  himself  because  of  the  death  of  Pani 
Krovitski.  Lord  light  her  soul !  she  was  a  coquette,  and 
I  never  liked  her.  She  coquetted  with  him  so  that  I  was 
afraid  to  take  Terka  to  any  place  where  they  were  together, 
because  her  conduct  was  simply  a  bad  example  for  such  a 
young  girl.  "What  is  true,  is  true  !  Lord  light  her  soul ! 
Terka,  too,  had  no  sympathy  for  her." 

"Ah,  Pani,"  said  Pani  Emilia,  ''I  have  always  heard 
that  she  was  an  angel." 

And  Bukatski,  who  had  never  seen  Pani  Krovitski  in  his 
life,  turned  to  Pani  Kraslavski  and  said  phlegmatically,  — 

"Madame, ye  vous  donne  ma  parole  d'honneur  that  she 
was  an  archangel." 

Pani  Kraslavski  was  silent  a  moment,  not  knowing  what 
to  answer ;  then,  flushing  up,  she  would  have  answered  some- 
thing sharp,  were  it  not  that  Bukatski,  as  a  man  of  wealth, 
might  in  a  given  event  be  a  good  match  for  Terka.  Pan 
Stanislav  enjoj'ed  the  same  consideration  in  her  eyes ;  and 
for  these  two  exclusively  she  kept  up  summer  relations 
with  the  Bigiels,  whom  she  did  not  recognize  when  they  met 
her  by  chance  on  the  street. 

"  With  gentlemen,"  said  she,  "  every  presentable  woman 
is  an  angel  or  an  archangel.  I  do  not  like  this,  even  when 
they  say  it  to  me  about  Terka.  Pani  Krovitski  might  be  a 
good  person,  but  she  had  no  tact ;  that  is  the  whole 
question." 

In  this  way  conversation  about  Ploshovski  dropped,  the 


132  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

more  since  the  attention  of  Pani  Kraslavski  was  turned 
exclusively  to  Pan  Stanislav,  who  was  entertaining  Panna 
Terka.  He  was  entertaining  her  a  little  out  of  anger  at 
himself,  a  little  out  of  anger  at  Marynia,  and  he  tried  to 
convince  himself  that  it  was  pleasant  for  him  near  her ; 
he  tried  even  to  find  in  her  a  charm,  and  discovered  that 
her  neck  was  too  slender  and  her  eyes  as  it  were  quenched 
eyes,  which  grew  lively  and  turned  inquiringly  at  him 
when  there  was  no  place  for  a  question.  He  observed,  too, 
that  she  might  be  a  quiet  despot,  for  when  the  mother 
began  to  talk  too  loudly,  Panna  Terka  put  her  glasses  to 
her  eyes  and  looked  at  her  attentively ;  and  under  the  in- 
fluence of  that  look  the  mother  lowered  her  voice,  or  grew 
silent  altogether.  In  general,  Panna  Terka  annoyed  him 
immensely ;  and  if  he  occupied  himself  more  with  her  than 
he  ever  had  before,  he  did  so  from  sheer  desperation,  to 
rouse  at  least  a  shade  of  jealousy  in  Marynia.  Even 
people  of  sound  sense  grasp  at  such  vain  methods  when 
the  misery  of  their  feelings  presses  them  too  keenly. 
These  methods  produce  usually  results  opposite  to  those 
intended,  for  they  increase  the  difficulty  of  subsequent 
approach  and  explanations;  besides,  they  merely  strengthen 
the  feeling  cherished  in  the  heart  of  the  person  using 
them.  Toward  the  end  Pan  Stanislav  longed  so  much  for 
Marynia  that  he  Avould  have  agreed  to  listen  even  to  an 
unpleasant  word  from  her,  if  he  could  only  approach  her 
and  speak;  and  still  it  seemed  to  him  more  difficult  now 
than  an  hour  before.  He  drew  a  deep  breath  when  the 
visit  was  over,  and  the  guests  were  preparing  to  go.  Be- 
fore that,  however,  Litka  approached  her  mother,  and, 
putting  her  arms  around  her  neck,  whispered.  Pani  Emilia 
nodded,  and  then  approached  Pan  Stanislav,  — 

''  Pan  Stanislav,"  said  she,  "  if  you  do  not  think  of 
spending  the  night  here,  ride  with  us.  Marynia  and  I  will 
take  Litka  between  us,  and  there  will  be  room  enough." 

"  Very  well.  I  cannot  pass  the  night  here  ;  and  I  am  very 
thankful,"  answered  he;  and,  divining  easily  who  the  author 
of  this  plan  was,  he  turned  to  Litka  and  said,  — 

"  Thou,  my  best  little  kitten,  thou." 

She,  holding  to  her  mother's  dress,  raised  to  him  her 
eyes,  half  sad,  half  delighted,  asking  quietly,  — 

"  Is  that  good.  Pan  Stas  ?  " 

A  few  minutes  later  they  started.  After  a  fine  day 
there  came  a  night  still  finer,  a  little  cool,  but  all  bright 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  133 

and  silvery  from  tlie  moon.  Pan  Stauislav,  for  whom  the 
day  had  passed  grievously  and  in  vain,  breathed  uow  with 
full  breast,  and  felt  almost  happy,  having  before  him  two 
beings  whom  he  loved  very  deeply,  and  one  whom  he 
loved  beyond  everything  on  earth.  By  the  light  of  the 
moon  he  saw  her  face,  and  it  seemed  to  him  mild  and 
peaceful.  He  thought  that  Marynia's  feelings  must  be 
like  her  face  in  that  moment;  that  perhaps  her  dislike  of 
him  was  softening  amid  that  general  quiet. 

Litka  dropped  into  the  depth  of  the  seat,  and  appeared  to 
be  sleeping.  -Pan  Stanislav  threw  a  shawl,  taken  from 
Pani  Emilia,  over  her  feet,  and  they  rode  on  a  while  in 
silence. 

Pani  Emilia  began  to  speak  of  Ploshovski,  the  news  of 
whose  death  had  impressed  her  deeply. 

"  There  is  hidden  in  all  that  some  unusually  sad  drama," 
said  Pan  Stanislav ;  "  and  Pani  Kraslavski  may  be  right  in 
some  small  degree  when  she  insists  that  these  two  deaths 
are  connected." 

"There  is  in  Suicide,"  saidMaryuia,  "this  ghastly  thing, 
that  one  feels  bound  to  condemn  it ;  and  while  condemning 
there  is  an  impression  that  there  should  be  no  sympathy 
for  the  misfortune." 

"  Sympathy,"  answered  Pan  Stanislav,  "  should  be  had 
for  those  who  have  feeling  yet,  —  hence  for  the  living." 

The  conversation  ceased,  and  they  went  on  again  for 
some  time  in  silence.  After  a  while  Pan  Stanislav  pointed 
to  the  lights  in  the  windows  of  a  house  standing  in  the 
depth  of  a  forest  park,  and  said,  — 

"  That  is  Pani  Kraslavski's  villa," 

"  I  cannot  forgive  her  for  what  she  said  of  that  unfortu- 
nate Pani  Krovitski,"  said  Pani  Emilia. 

"  That  is  simply  a  cruel  woman,  "  added  Pan  Stanislav ; 
"  but  do  you  know  why  ?  It  is  because  of  her  daughter. 
She  looks  on  the  whole  world  as  a  background  which  she 
would  like  to  make  as  black  as  possible,  so  that  Panna 
Terka  might  be  reflected  on  it  the  more  brightly.  Perhaps 
the  mother  had  designs  sometime  on  Ploshovski;  per- 
haps she  considered  Pani  Krovitski  a  hindrance,  —  hence 
her  hatred." 

"  That  is  a  nice  young  lady,"  said  Marynia. 

"  There  are  persons  for  whom  behind  the  world  of  social 
forms  begins  another  and  far  wider  world;  for  her  nothing 
begins  there,  or  rather  everything  ends.     She  is  simply  an 


134  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

automaton,  in  whom  the  heart  beats  only  when  her  mother 
winds  it  with  a  key.  For  that  matter,  there  are  in  society 
very  many  such  young  ladies;  and  even  those  who  give 
themselves  out  for  something  different  are  in  reality  just 
like  her.  It  is  the  eternal  history  of  Galatea.  Would  you 
believe,  ladies,  that  a  couple  of  years  since  an  acquaintance 
of  mine,  a  young  doctor,  fell  in  love  to  distraction  with 
that  puppet,  that  quenched  candle.  Twice  he  proposed,  and 
twice  he  was  rejected ;  for  those  ladies  looked  higher.  He 
joined  the  Holland  service  afterwards,  and  died  there  some- 
where, with  the  fever  doubtless ;  for  at  first  he  wrote  to  me 
inquiring  about  his  automaton,  and  later  on  those  letters 
ceased  to  come." 

"  Does  she  know  of  this  ?  " 

"  She  does ;  for  as  often  as  1  see  her,  I  speak  of  him. 
And  what  is  characteristic  is  this,  —  that  the  memory 
of  him  does  not  ruffle  her  composure  for  an  instant.  She 
speaks  of  him  as  of  any  one  else.  If  he  expected  from  her 
even  a  posthumous  sorrow,  he  was  deceived  in  that  also.  I 
must  show  you,  ladies,  sometime,  one  'of  his  letters. 
I  strove  to  explain  to  him  her  feeling;  he  answered  me, 
'  I  estimate  her  coolly,  but  I  cannot  tear  my  soul  from  her.' 
He  was  a  sceptic,  a  positive  man,  a  child  of  the  age ;  but 
it  seems  that  feeling  makes  sport  of  all  philosophies  and 
tendencies.  Everything  passes ;  but  feeling  was,  is,  and 
will  be.  Besides,  he  said  to  me  once,  'I  would  rather  be 
unhappy  with  her  than  happy  with  another.'  What  is  to  be 
said  in  this  case  ?  The  man  looked  at  things  soundly,  but 
could  not  tear  his  soul  awav,  —  and  that  was  the  end 
of  it." 

This  conversation  ended  also.  They  came  out  now  on 
to  a  road  planted  with  chestnut-trees,  the  trunks  of  which 
seemed  rosy  in  the  light  of  the  carriage  lamps. 

"  But  if  any  one  has  misfortune,  he  must  endure  it,"  said 
Pan  Stanislav,  following  evidently  the  course  of  his  own 
thoughts. 

Meanwhile  Pani  Emilia  bent  over  Litka,  — 

"  Art  sleeping,  child  ?  "  inquired  she. 

"  No,  mamma,"  answered  Litka. 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  135 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

"  I  HAVE  never  run  after  wealth,"  said  Plavitski ;  "  but 
if  Providence  in  its  inscrutable  decrees  has  directed  that 
even  a  part  of  that  great  fortune  should  come  to  our  hands, 
I  shall  not  cross  its  path.  Of  this  not  much  will  come  to 
me.  Soou  I  shall  need  four  planks  and  the  silent  tear  of 
my  child,  for  whom  I  have  lived ;  but  here  it  is  a  question 
of  Marynia." 

"I  would  turn  your  attention  to  this,"  said  Mashko, 
coldly,  —  "  that,  first  of  all,  those  expectations  are  very 
uncertain." 

"  But  is  it  right  not  to  take  them  into  consideration  ?  " 

"  Secondly,  that  Panna  Ploshovski  is  living  yet." 

"  But  sawdust  is  dropping  out  of  the  old  woman.  She  is 
as  shrivelled  as  a  mushroom  !  " 

"Thirdly,  she  may  leave  her  property  for  public  pur- 
poses." 

"But  is  it  not  possible  to  dispute  such  a  will  ?  " 

"Fourthly,  your  relationship  is  immensely  distant.  In 
the  same  way  all  people  in  Poland  are  related  to  one  another." 

"  She  has  no  nearer  relatives." 

"But  Polanyetski  is  your  relative." 

"  No.  God  knows  he  is  not !  He  is  a  relative  of  my  first 
wife,  not  mine." 

"  And  Bukatski  ?  " 

"  Give  me  peace  !  Bukatski  is  a  cousin  of  my  brother-in- 
law's  wife." 

"  Have  3'ou  no  other  relatives  ?  " 

"The  Gantovskis  claim  us,  as  you  know.  People  say 
that  which  flatters  them.  But  there  is  no  need  of  reckoning 
with  the  Gantovskis." 

Mashko  presented  difficulties  purposely,  so  as  to  show 
afterward  a  small  margin  of  hope,  therefore  he  said,  — 

"  With  us  people  are  very  greedy  for  inheritances ;  and 
let  any  inheritance  be  in  sight,  they  fly  together  from  all 
sides,  as  sparrows  fly  to  wheat.  Everything  in  such  cases 
depends  on  this  :  who  claims  first,  what  he  claims,  and 
finally  througli  wliom  he  claims.  Eemember  that  an  ener- 
getic man,  acquainted  with  aff'airs,   may  make  something 


136  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

out  of  nothing ;  while,  on  the  other  hand,  a  man  without 
energy  or  acquaintance  with  business,  even  if  he  has  a  good 
basis'' of  action,  may  effect  nothing." 

"  I  know  this  from  experience.  All  my  life  I  have  had 
business  up  to  this."  Here  Plavitski  drew  his  hand  across 
his  throat. 

"  Besides,  you  may  become  the  plaything  of  advocates," 
added  :\rashko,  "  and  be  exploited  without  limit." 

"  In  such  a  case  I  could  count  on  your  personal  friend- 
ship for  us." 

"  And  you  would  not  be  deceived,"  answered  Mashko, 
with  importance.  ''  Both  for  you  and  Panna  Marynia  I  have 
friendship  as  profound  as  if  you  belonged  to  my  family." 

"I  thank  you  in  the  name  of  the  orphan,"  answered  Pla- 
vitski ;  and  emotion  did  not  let  him  speak  further. 

Mashko  put  on  dignity,  and  said,  "  But  if  you  wish  me  to 
defend  your  rights,  both  in  this  matter,  which,  as  I  said, 
may  prove  illusive,  and  in  other  matters,  then  give  me 
those  rights."  Here  the  young  advocate  seized  Plavitski's 
hand,  — 

"  Respected  sir,"  continued  he,  "  you  will  divine  that  of 
which  I  wish  to  speak;  therefore  hear  me  to  the  end 
patiently." 

He  lowered  his  voice ;  and  although  there  was  no  one  in 
the  room,  he  began  to  speak  almost  in  a  whisper.  He 
spoke  with  force,  with  dignity,  and  at  the  same  time  with 
great  self-command,  as  befitted  a  man  who  never  forgot 
who  he  was  nor  what  he  offered.  Plavitski  closed  his  eyes 
at  moments ;  at  moments  he  pressed  Mashko's  hand ;  finally, 
at  the  end  of  the  conference,  he  said,  — 

*•'  Come  to  the  drawing-room  ;  I  will  send  in  Marynia.  I 
know  not  what  she  will  say  to  you  ;  in  every  case,  let  that 
come  which  God  wills.  I  have  at  all  times  known  your 
value  ;  now  I  esteem  you  still  more  —  and  here  !  " 

The  arms  of  Plavitski  opened  wide,  and  Mashko  bent 
toward  them,  repeating,  not  without  emotion,  but  always 
with  lofty  dignity,  — 

"I  thank,  I  thank  —  " 

After  a  while  he  found  himself  in  the  drawing-room. 

Marynia  appeared  with  a  face  which  had  grown  very 
pale;  but  she  was  calm.  Mashko  pushed  a  chair  toward 
her,  seated  himself  in  another,  and  began,  — 

'*  I  am  here  by  the  approval  of  your  father.  My  words 
can  tell  you  nothing  beyond   what   my   silence   has   told 


CHILDREN   OF  THE   SOIL.  137 

already,  and  which  you  have  divined.  But  since  the  mo- 
ment has  come  in  which  I  should  mention  my  feelings 
explicitly,  I  do  this  then  with  all  confidence  in  your  heart 
and  character.  I  am  a  man  who  loves  you,  on  whom  you 
may  lean ;  therefore  I  put  in  your  hands  my  life,  and  I  beg 
you  from  the  bottom  of  my  heart  to  consent  to  go  with 
me." 

Marynia  was  silent  for  a  moment,  as  if  seeking  words, 
then  she  said,  — 

"  I  ought  to  answer  you  clearly  and  sincerely.  This  con- 
fession is  for  me  very  difficult ;  but  I  do  not  wish  such  a 
man  as  you  to  deceive  himself.  I  have  not  loved  you ;  I 
do  not  love  you,  and  I  will  not  be  your  wife,  even  should  it 
come  to  me  never  to  be  any  one's." 

Then  a  still  more  prolonged  silence  followed.  The  spots 
on  Mashko's  face  assumed  a  deeper  hue,  and  his  eyes  cast 
cold  steel  gleams. 

"  This  answer,"  said  he,  "  is  as  decided  as  it  is  painful 
to  me  and  unexpected.  But  will  you  not  give  yourself 
a  few  days  to  consider,  instead  of  rejecting  me  decisively 
at  this  moment  ?  " 

"You  have  said  that  I  divined  your  feelings;  I  had  time 
then  to  make  my  decision,  and  the  answer  which  I  gave 
you,  I  give  after  thorough  reflection." 

Mashko's  voice  became  dry  and  sharp  now,  — 

"  Do  you  think  that  by  virtue  of  your  bearing  with  me,  1 
had  not  the  right  to  make  such  a  proposal  ?  " 

And  he  was  sure  in  that  moment  that  Marynia  would 
answer  that  he  understood  her  bearing  incorrectly,  that 
there  was  nothing  in  it  authorizing  him  to  entertain  any 
hope,  —  in  one  word,  that  she  would  seek  the  crooked  road 
taken  usually  by  coquettes  who  are  forced  to  redeem  their 
coquetry  by  lying;  but  she  raised  her  eyes  to  him  and  said,-— 

"My  conduct  with  you  has  not  been  at  times  what  it 
should  have  been ;  I  confess  my  fault,  and  with  my  whole 
soul  I  beg  pardon  for  it." 

Mashko  was  silent.  A  woman  who  evades  rouses  con- 
tempt ;  a  woman  who  recognizes  her  fault  dashes  the  wea- 
pon from  the  hand  of  every  opponent  in  whose  nature,  or 
even  in  whose  education,  there  lies  the  least  spark  of 
knightly  feeling.  Besides  this,  there  is  one  final  method  of 
moving  the  heart  of  a  woman  in  such  a  case,  and  that  is 
to  overlook  her  fault  magnanimously.  Mashko,  though  he 
saw  before  him  a  precipice,  understood  this,  and  determined 


138  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

to  lay  everything  on  this  last  card.  Every  nerve  in  him 
quivered  from  anger  and  offended  self-love ;  but  he  mastered 
himself,  took  his  hat,  and,  approaching  Maryuia,  raised  her 
hand  to  his  lips. 

'<  I  knew  that  you  loved  Kremen,"  said  he ;  "  and  I 
bought  it  for  one  purpose  only,  to  lay  it  at  your  feet.  I 
see  that  I  went  by  a  mistaken  road,  and  I  withdraw,  though 
I  do  so  with  endless  sorrow ;  I  beg  you  to  remember  that. 
Fault  on  your  part  there  has  not  been,  and  is  not.  Your 
peace  is  dearer  to  me  than  my  own  happiness  ;  I  beg  you, 
therefore,  as  an  only  favor,  not  to  reproach  yourself.  And 
now  farewell." 

And  he  went  out. 

She  sat  there  motionless  a  long  time,  with  a  pale  face 
and  a  feeling  of  oppression  in  her  soul.  She  had  not  ex- 
pected to  find  in  him  so  many  noble  feelings.  Besides,  the 
following  thought  came  to  her  head,  "  That  one  took  Kre- 
men from  me  to  save  his  own ;  this  one  bought  it  to  re- 
turn it  to  me."  And  never  before  had  Pan  Stanislav  been 
so  ruined  in  her  thoughts.  At  that  moment  she  did  not 
remember  that  Mashko  had  bought  Kremen,  not  from  Pan 
Stanislav,  but  from  her  father ;  second,  that  he  had  bought 
it  profitably;  third,  that  though  he  wished  to  return  it,  he 
intended  to  take  it  again  with  her  hand,  thus  freeing  him- 
self from  the  payments  which  weighed  on  him ;  and  finally, 
to  take  the  matter  as  it  was  in  reality,  neither  Pan  Stanis- 
lav nor  any  one  else  had  taken  Kremen  from  her,  —  Pla- 
vitski  had  sold  it  because  he  was  willing  and  found  a 
purchaser.  But  at  that  moment  she  looked  on  the  mat- 
ter in  woman  fashion,  and  compared  Mashko  with  Pan 
Stanislav,  exalting  the  former  beyond  measure,  and  con- 
demning the  latter  beyond  his  deserts.  Mashko's  action 
touched  her  so  much  that  if  she  had  not  felt  for  him  simply 
a  repulsion,  she  would  have  called  him  back.  Por  a  while 
it  seemed  to  her  even  that  she  ought  to  do  so,  but  strength 
failed  her. 

She  did  not  know  either  that  Mashko  went  down  the 
stairs  with  rage  and  despair  in  his  soul ;  in  fact,  a  preci- 
pice had  opened  before  him.  All  his  calculations  had 
deceived  him:  the  woman  whom  he  loved  really  did  not 
want  him,  and  rejected  him;  and  though  she  had  striven 
to  spare  him  in  words,  he  felt  humbled  as  never  before. 
Whatever  he  had  undertaken  in  life  hitherto,  he  had  carried 
through  always  with  a  feeling  of  his  own  power  and  reason, 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  139 

with  ail  unshaken  certainty  of  success.  Marynia's  refusal 
had  taken  that  certainty  from  him.  For  the  tirst  time  he 
doubted  himself;  for  the  tirst  time  he  had  a  feeling  that 
his  star  was  beginning  to  pale,  and  that  perhaps  an  epoch 
of  defeats  was  beginning  for  him  on  all  fields  on  which  he 
had  acted  hitherto.  That  epoch  had  begun  even.  Mashko 
had  bought  Kremeu  on  conditions  exceptionally  profitable, 
but  it  was  too  large  an  estate  for  his  means.  If  Marynia 
had  not  rejected  him,  he  would  have  been  able  to  manage; 
he  would  uot  have  needed  to  think  of  the  life  annuity  for 
Plavitski,  or  the  sum  which,  according  to  agreement,  came 
to  Marynia  for  Magyerovka.  At  present  he  had  to  pay 
Marynia,  Fan  Stauislav,  and  the  debts  on  Kremen,  which 
must  be  paid  as  soon  as  possible,  for,  by  reason  of  usurious 
interest,  they  were  increasing  day  by  day,  and  threatening 
utter  ruin.  For  all  this  he  had  only  credit,  hitherto  un- 
shaken, it  is  true,  but  strained  like  a  chord;  Mashko  felt 
that,  if  that  chord  should  ever  snap,  he  would  be  ruined 
beyond  remedy. 

Hence  at  moments,  besides  sorrow  for  Marynia,  besides 
the  pain  which  a  man  feels  after  the  loss  of  happiness, 
anger  measureless,  almost  mad,  bore  him  away,  and  also 
an  unbridled  desire  for  revenge.  Therefore,  when  he  was 
entering  his  residence,  he  muttered  through  his  set  teeth,  — 

"If  thou  do  not  become  my  wife,  I  'II  not  forgive  thee 
for  what  thou  hast  done  to  me;  if  thou  become  my  wife, 
I  '11  not  forgive  thee  either." 

Meanwhile  Plavitski  entered  the  room  in  which  Marynia 
was  sitting,  and  said,  — 

"Thou  hast  refused  him,  or  he  would  have  come  to  me 
before  going." 

"I  have,  papa." 

"Without  hope  for  the  future?" 

"Without  hope.  I  respect  him  as  no  one  in  the  world, 
but  I  gave  him  no  hope." 

"What  did  he  answer?" 

"Everything  that  such  a  high-minded  person  could 
answer." 

"A  new  misfortune.  Who  knows  if  thou  hast  not  de- 
prived me  of  a  morsel  of  bread  in  my  old  age  ?  But  I  knew 
that  no  thought  of  this  would  come  to  thee." 

"I  could  not  act  otherwise;  I  could  not." 

"I  have  no  wish  to  force  thee;  and  I  go  to  offer  my  suf- 
ferings there  where  every  tear  of  an  old  man  is  counted." 


140  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

And  he  went  to  Lour's  to  look  at  men  playing  billiards. 
He  would  have  consented  to  Mashko;  but  at  the  root  ot 
the  matter  he  did  not  count  him  a  very  brilliant  match,  and, 
thinking  that  Marynia  might  do  better,  he  did  not  trouble 
himself  too  much  over  what  had  happened. 

Half  an  hour  later  Marynia  ran  in  to  Pani  Emilia's. 

"One  weight  at  least  has  fallen  from  my  heart,"  began 
she.  "I  refused  Pan  Mashko  to-day  decisively.  I  am 
sorry  for  him;  he  acted  with  me  as  nobly  and  delicately 
as  only  such  a  man  could  act;  and  if  I  had  for  him  even  a 
small  spark  of  feeling,  I  would  return  to  him  to-day." 

Here  she  repeated  the  whole  conversation  with  ^lashko. 
Even  Pani  Emilia  could  not  reproach  him  with  anything; 
she  could  not  refuse  a  certain  admiration,  though  she  had 
blamed  Mashko  for  a  violent  character,  and  had  not  ex- 
pected that,  in  such  a  grievous  moment  for  himself,  he 
would  be  able  to  show  such  moderation  and  nobleness. 
But  Marynia  said,  — 

"My  Em  ilka,  I  know  thy  friendship  for  l^an  Stanislav, 
but  judge  these  two  men  by  their  acts,  not  their  words, 
and  compare  them." 

"Never  shall  I  compare  them,"  answered  Pani  Emilia 
"comparison  is  impossible  in  this  case.  For  me.  Pan 
Stanislav  is  a  nature  a  hundred  times  loftier  than  Mashko, 
but  tliou  judgest  him  unjustly.  Thou,  Marynia,  hast  no 
right  to  say,  '  One  tookKremen  from  me;  the  other  wished 
to  give  it  back.'  Such  was  not  the  case.  Pan  Stanislav 
did  not  take  it  from  thee  at  p,ny  time;  but  to-day,  if  he 
could,  he  would  return  it  with  all  his  heart.  Preposses- 
sion is  talking  through  thee." 

"Not  prepossession,  but  reality,  which  nothing  can 
change." 

Pani  Emilia  seated  Marynia  before  her,  and  said,  "By 
all  means,  Marynia,  prepossession,  and  1  will  tell  thee  why. 
Thou  art  not  indifferent  to  Pan  Stanislav  now." 

Marynia  quivered  as  if  some  one  had  touched  a  wound 
which  was  paining  her;  and  after  a  while  she  replied,  with 
changed  voice,  — 

"Pan  Stanislav  is  not  indifferent  to  me;  thou  art  right. 
Everything  which  in  me  could  be  sympathy  for  him  has 
turned  to  dislike;  and  hear,  Emilka,  what  1  will  tell  thee. 
If  I  had  to  choose  between  those  two  men,  I  should  choose 
Mashko  without  hesitation." 

Pani  Emilia  dropped  her  head;  after  a  while  Marynia's 
arms  were  around  her  neck. 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  141 

"What  suffering  for  me,  that  I  cause  thee  such  pain? 
but  I  must  tell  truth.  I  know  that  in  the  end  thou,  too, 
wilt  cease  to  love  me,  and  I  shall  be  all  alone  in  the 
world." 

And  really  something  like  that  had  begun.  The  young 
women  parted  with  embraces  and  kisses;  but  still,  when 
they  found  themselves  far  from  each  other,  both  felt  that 
something  between  them  had  snapped,  and  that  their 
mutual  relations  would  not  be  so  cordial  as  hitherto. 

Pani  Emilia  hesitated  for  a  number  of  days  whether  to 
repeat  Marynia's  words  to  Pan  Stanislav;  but  he  begged 
her  so  urgently  for  the  whole  truth  that  at  last  she  thought 
it  necessary,  and  that  she  would  better  tell  it.  "When  all 
had  been  told,  he  said.  — 

"I  thank  you.  If  Panna  Plavitski  feels  contemjit  for 
me,  I  must  endure  it;  I  cannot,  however,  endure  this, — 
that  I  should  begin  to  despise  myself.  As  it  is,  I  have 
gone  too  far.  My  dear  lady,  you  know  that  if  I  have 
done  her  a  wrong,  I  have  tried  to  correct  it,  and  gain  her 
forgiveness.  I  do  not  feel  bound  to  further  duties.  I 
shall  have  grievous  moments;  I  do  not  hide  that  from  you. 
But  I  have  not  been  an  imbecile,  and  am  not;  I  shall  be 
able  to  bring  myself  to  this,  —  I  shall  throw  all  my  feelings 
for  Panna  Plavitski  through  the  window,  as  I  would  some- 
thing not  needed  in  my  chamber,  I  promise  that  sacredly." 

He  went  home  filled  with  will  and  energy.  It  seemed 
to  him  that  he  could  take  "that  feeling  and  break  it  as  he 
might  break  a  cane  across  his  knee.  This  impulse  lasted 
a  number  of  days.  During  that  time  he  did  not  show 
himself  anywhere,  except  at  his  office,  where  he  talked 
with  Bigiel  of  business  exclusively.  He  worked  from 
morning  till  evening  and  did  not  permit  himself  even  to 
think  about  Marynia  in  the  daytime. 

But  he  could  not  guard  himself  from  sleepless  nights. 
Then  came  to  him  the  clear  feeling  that  Marynia  might 
love  him,  that  she  would  be  the  best  wife  for  him,  that  he 
would  be  happy  with  her  as  never  with  any  one  else,  2nd 
that  he  would  love  her  as  his  highest  good.  The  regret 
born  of  these  thoughts  filled  his  whole  existence,  and  did 
not  leave  him  any  more,  so  that  sorrow  was  consuming  his 
life  and  his  health,  as  rust  consumes  iron.  Pan  Stanislav 
began  to  grow  thin;  he  saw  that  the  destruction  of  a  feel- 
ing gives  one  sure  result, — the  destruction  of  happiness. 
Never  had  he  seen  such  a  void  before  him,  and  never  liad 


142  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

he  felt,  with  equal  force,  that  nothing  would  fill  it.  He 
saw,  too,  that  it  was  possible  to  love  a  woman  not  as  she 
is,  but  as  she  might  be;  therefore  his  heart-sickness  was 
beyond  measure.  But,  having  great  power  over  himself, 
he  avoided  Maryuia.  He  knew  always  when  she  was  to 
be  at  Pani  Emilia's,  and  then  he  confined  himself  at  home. 
It  was  only  when  Litka  fell  ill  again  that  he  began  to 
visit  Pani  Emilia  daily,  passing  hours  with  the  sick  child, 
whom  Marynia  attended  also. 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  143 


CHAPTER  XV. 

But  poor  Litka,  after  a  new  attack,  which  was  more 
terrible  than  any  preceding  it,  could  not  recover.  She 
spent  days  now  lying  on  a  long  chair  in  the  drawing- 
room;  for  at  her  request  the  doctor  and  Pani  Emilia  had 
agreed  not  to  keep  her  in  bed  the  whole  time.  She  liked 
also  to  have  Pan  Stanislav  sitting  near  her;  and  she  spoke 
to  him  and  her  mother  about  everything  that  passed  through 
her  mind.  With  Marynia  she  was  silent  usually;  but  at 
times  she  looked  at  her  long,  and  then  raised  her  eyes  to 
the  ceiling,  as  if  wishing  to  think  out  a  thought,  and  give 
herself  an  account  of  something.  More  than  once  these 
meditations  took  place  when  she  was  left  alone  with  her 
mother.  On  a  certain  afternoon  she  woke  as  if  from  a 
dream,  and  turning  to  her  mother,  said,  — 

"Mamma,  sit  near  me  here  on  the  sofa." 

Pani  Emilia  sat  down;  the  child  put  her  arms  around 
her  neck,  and,  resting  her  head  on  her  shoulder,  began  to 
speak  in  a  caressing  voice,  which  was  somewhat  enfeebled. 

"I  wanted  to  ask  mamma  one  thing,  but  I  do  not  know 
how  to  ask  it." 

"What  is  thy  wish,  my  dear  child?" 

Litka  was  silent  a  moment,  collecting  her  thoughts; 
then  she  said,  — 

"If  we  love  some  one,  mamma,  what  is  it?" 

"If  we  love  some  one,  Litus?" 

Pani  Emilia  repeated  the  question,  not  understanding 
well  at  first  what  the  little  girl  was  asking,  but  she  did 
not  know  how  to  inquire  more  precisely. 

"Then  what  is  it,  mamma?" 

" It  is  this,  —  we  wish  that  one  to  be  well,  just  as  I  wish 
thee  to  be  well." 

"And  what  more?" 

"And  we  want  that  person  to  be  happy,  want  it  to  be 
pleasant  in  the  world  for  that  person ,^^  and  are  glad  to 
suffer  for  that  person  when  in  trouble." 

"And  what  more?" 

"To  have  that  one  always  with  us,  as  thou  art  with  me; 
and  we  want  that  one  to  love  us,  as  thou  lovest  me." 


144  CHILDREN  OP  THE  SOIL. 

"I  understand  now,"  said  Litka,  after  a  moment's 
thought;  "and  I  thiuk  myself  that  that  is  true,— that  it 
is  that  way." 

"How,  kitten?" 

"See,  mamma,  when  I  was  in  Eeichenhall,  mamma  re- 
members? at  Thumsee  I  heard  that  Pan  Stas  loves  Panna 
Marynia;  and  now  I  know  that  he  must  be  unhappy,  though 
he  never  says  so." 

Pani  Emilia,  fearing  emotion  for  Litka,  said,  — 

"Does  not  this  talk  make  thee  tired,  kitten?" 

"Oh,  no,  not  a  bit,  not  a  bit!  I  understand  now:  he 
wants  her  to  love  him,  and  she  does  not  love  him;  and 
he  wants  her  to  be  near  him  always,  but  she  lives  with  her 
father,  and  she  will  not  marry  him." 

"Marry  him?" 

"Marry  him.  And  he  is  suffering  from  that,  mamma; 
isn't  it  true?" 

"True,  my  child." 

"Yes,  I  know  all  that;  and  she  would  marry  him  if  she 
loved  him?" 

"Certainly,  kitten;  he  is  such  a  kind  man." 

"Now  I  know." 

The  little  girl  closed  her  eyes,  and  Pani  Emilia  thought 
for  a  while  that  she  was  sleeping;  but  after  a  time  she 
began  to  inquire  again,  — 

"And  if  he  married  Marynia,  would  he  cease  to  love 
us?" 

"No,  Litus;  he  would  love  us  always  just  the  same." 

"But  would  he  love  Marynia?" 

"  Marynia  would  be  nearer  to  him  than  we.  Why  dost 
thou  ask  about  this  so,  thou  kitten?" 

"Is  it  wrong?" 

"No,  there  is  nothing  wrong  in  it,  nothing  at  all;  only  I 
am  afraid  that  thou  wilt  weary  thyself." 

"Oh,  no!  I  am  always  thinking  of  Pan  Stas  anyhow. 
But  mamma  mustn't  tell  Marynia  about  this." 

With  these  words  ended  the  conversation,  after  which 
Litka  held  silence  for  a  number  of  days,  only  she  looked 
more  persistently  than  before  at  Marynia.  Sometimes  she 
took  her  hand  and  turned  her  eyes  to  the  young  woman,  as 
if  wishing  to  ask  something.  Sometimes  when  Marynia 
and  Pan  Stanislav  were  nearby,  she  gazed  now  on  her,  now 
on  him,  and  then  closed  her  lids.  Often  they  came  daily, 
sometimes  a  number  of  times  in  the  day,  wishing  to  relieve 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  145 

Pani  Emilia,  who  permitted  no  one  to  take  her  place  in 
the  night  at  Litka's  bedside;  for  a  week  she  had  been 
without  rest  at  night,  sleeping  only  a  little  in  the  day, 
when  Litka  herself  begged  her  to  do  so.  Still  Pani 
Emilia  was  not  conscious  of  the  whole  danger  which 
threatened  the  little  girl;  for  the  doctor,  not  knowing  what 
that  crisis  of  the  disease  would  be,  whether  a  step  in 
advance  merely,  or  the  end,  pacified  the  mother  the  more 
decisively  because  Pan  Stanislav  begged  him  most  urgently 
to  do  so. 

She  had  a  feeling,  however,  that  Litka's  condition  was 
not  favorable,  and,  in  spite  of  assurances  from  the  doctor, 
her  heart  sank  more  than  once  from  alarm.  But  to  Litka 
she  showed  always  a  smiling  and  joyous  face,  just  as  did 
Pan  Stanislav  and  Marynia;  but  the  little  girl  had  learned 
already  to  observe  everything,  and  Pani  Emilia's  most 
carefully  concealed  alarm  did  not  escape  her. 

Therefore  on  a  certain  morning,  when  there  was  no  one 
in  her  room  but  Pan  Stanislav,  who  was  occupied  with 
inflating  for  her  a  great  globe  of  silk,  which  he  had  brought 
as  a  present,  the  little  girl  said,  — 

"  Pan  Stas,  I  see  sometimes  that  mamma  is  very  anxious 
because  I  am  sick." 

He  stopped  inflating  the  globe,  and  answered,  — 

"Ai!  she  doesn't  dream  of  it.  What  is  working  under 
thy  hair?  But  it  is  natural  for  her  to  be  anxious;  she  would 
rather  have  thee  well." 

"Why  are  all  other  children  well,  and  I  alone  always 
sick?  " 

"Nicely  well!  Weren't  the  Bigiel  children  sick,  one 
after  another,  with  whooping-cough?  For  whole  months 
the  house  was  like  a  sheepfold.  And  didn't  Yozio  have 
the  measles?  All  children  are  eternally  sick,  and  that  is 
the  one  pleasure  with  them." 

"  Pan  Stas  only  talks  that  way,  for  children  are  sick  and 
get  well  again."  Here  she  began  to  shake  her  head.  "No; 
that  is  something  different.  And  now  I  must  lie  this  way 
all  the  time,  for  if  I  get  up  my  heart  beats  right  away; 
and  the  day  before  yesterday,  when  they  began  to  sing  on 
tlie  street,  and  mamma  was  n't  in  the  room,  I  went  to  the 
window  a  little  while,  and  saw  a  funeral.  I  thought,  *I, 
too,  shall  die  surely.'  " 

"Nonsense,  Litus!"  cried  Pan  Stanislav;  and  he  began 
to  inflate  the  globe  quickly  to  hide  his  emotion,  and  to 

10 


146  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

show  the  child  how  little  her  words  meant.     But  she  went 
ou  with  her  tliought,  — 

'•  It  is  so  stifling  lor  me  sometimes,  and  my  heart  beats 
so  —  mamma  told  me  to  say  then  *  Under  Thy  protection,' 
and  1  say  it  always,  for  I  am  terribly  afraid  to  die !     I 
know  that  it  is  nice  in  heaven,  but  I  shouldn't  be  with  ^ 
mamma,  only  alone  in  the  graveyard;  yes,  in  the  night." 

Pan  Stanislav  laid  down  the  globe  suddenly,  sat  near 
the  long  chair,  and.  taking  Litka's  hand,  said, — 

"My  Litus,  if  thou  love  mamma,  if  thou  love  me,  do  not 
think  of  such  things.  Nothing  will  happen  to  thee;  but  thy 
mother  would  sutfer  if  she  knew  what  her  little  girl's  head 
is  tilled  with.  Remember  that  thou  art  hurting  thyself  in 
this  way." 

Litka  joined  her  hands :  "  My  Pan  Stas,  I  ask  only  one 
thing,  not  more." 

He  bent  his  head  down  to  her:  "Well,  ask,  kitten,  only 
something  sensible." 

"Would  Pan  Stas  be  very  sorry  for  me?" 

"Ah  !  but  see  what  a  bad  girl ! " 

"My  Pan  Stas,  tell  me." 

"1?  what  an  evil  child,  Litus!  Know  that  I  love  thee, 
love  thee  immensely.  God  preserve  us !  there  is  no  one 
in  the  world  that  I  should  be  so  sorry  for.  But  be  quiet 
at  least  for  me,  thou  suffering  fly !  thou  dearest  creature ! " 

"  J  will  be  quiet,  kind  Pan  Stas." 

And  in  the  moment  Avhen  Pani  Emilia  came,  and  he  was 
preparing  to  go,  she  asked, — 

"  And  Pan  Stas  is  not  angry  with  me  ?  " 

"  No,  Litus,"  answered  Pan  Stanislav. 

When  he  had  gone  to  the  antechamber  he  heard  a  light 
knocking  at  the  door ;  Pani  Emilia  had  given  orders  to 
remove  the  bell.  He  opened  it  and  saw  Mai*ynia,  who  came 
ordinarily  in  the  evening.  When  she  had  greeted  him,  she 
asked,  — 

"How  is  Litka  to-day  ?  " 

"As  usual." 

"Has  the  doctor  been  here  ?  " 

"  Yes.     He  found  nothing  new.     Let  me  help  you  ! " 

Saying  this,  he  wished  to  take  her  cloak,  but  she  was 
unwilling  to  accept  his  services,  and  refused.  Having  his 
heart  full  of  the  previous  talk  with  Litka,  he  attacked  her 
most  unexpectedly,  — 

"What  I  offer  you  is  simple  politeness,  nothing  more; 


CHILDKEN   OF  THE   SOIL.  147 

and  even  if  it  were  something  more,  you  might  leave  your 
repugnance  to  me  outside  this  threshold,  for  inside  is  a 
sick  child,  whom  not  only  I,  but  you,  profess  to  love.  Your 
response  lacks  not  merely  kindness,  but  even  courtesy.  I 
would  take  in  the  same  way  the  cloak  of  any  other  woman, 
and  know  that  at  present  I  am  thinking  of  Litka,  and  of 
nothing  else." 

He  spoke  with  great  passionateness,  so  that,  attacked 
suddenly,  Marynia  was  a  little  frightened ;  indeed,  she  lost 
her  head  somewhat,  so  that  obediently  she  let  her  cloak  be 
taken  from  her,  and  not  only  did  not  find  in  lierself  the  force 
to  be  offended,  but  she  felt  that  a  man  sincerely  and  deeply 
affected  by  alarm  and  suffering  might  talk  so,  therefore  a 
man  who  was  really  full  of-  feeling  and  was  good  at  heart. 
Perhaps,  too,  that  unexpected  energy  of  his  spoke  to  her 
feminine  nature  ;  it  is  enough  that  Pan  Stanislav  gained  on 
her  more  in  that  moment  than  at  any  time  since  their  meet- 
ing at  Kremen,  and  never  till  then  was  she  so  strongly 
reminded  of  that  active  young  man  whom  she  had  con- 
ducted once  through  the  garden.  The  impression,  it  is  true, 
was  a  mere  passing  one,  which  could  not  decide  their  mutual 
relations  ;  but  she  raised  at  once  on  him  her  eyes,  somewhat 
astonislied,  but  not  angry,  and  said,  — 

"I  beg  your  pardon." 

He  had  calmed  himself,  and  was  abashed  now. 

"No  ;  I  beg  pardon  of  you.  Just  now  Litka  spoke  of  her 
death  to  me,  and  I  am  so  excited  that  I  cannot  control 
myself ;  pray  understand  this,  and  forgive  me." 

Then  he  pressed  her  hand  firmly,  and  went  home. 


148  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 


CHAPTER  XVL 

On  the  following  day  Marynia  offered  to  stay  at  Pani 
Emilia's  till  Litka  should  recover  perfectly.  Litka  sup- 
ported this  offer,  which  Pani  Emilia,  after  a  short  oppo- 
sition, was  forced  to  accept.  In  fact,  she  was  dropping  down 
from  weariness;  the  health  of  the  sick  girl  demanded 
unceasing  and  exceptional  watchfulness,  for  a  new  attack 
might  come  at  any  instant.  It  was  difficult  to  calculate  or 
be  sure  that  a  servant,  even  the  most  faithful,  would  not 
doze  at  the  very  moment  in  which  speedy  assistance  might 
save  the  child's  life ;  hence  the  presence  of  Marynia  was  a 
real  aid  to  the  anxious  mother,  and  calmed  her. 

As  to  Plavitski,  he  preferred  to  eat  at  the  restaurant,  and 
made  no  trouble.  Marynia,  moreover,  went  in  every  day 
to  inquire  about  his  health  and  bring  domestic  accounts 
into  order ;  then  she  returned  to  Pani  Emilia  to  sit  half  the 
night  by  the  little  girl. 

In  this  way  Pan  Stanislav,  who  passed  at  Pani  Emilia's 
all  the  time  free  from  occupation,  and  received,  or  rather 
dismissed  with  thanks,  those  who  came  to  inquire  for 
Litka's  health,  saw  Marynia  daily.  And  she  in  truth 
amazed  him ;  Pani  Emilia  herself  did  not  show  more  anxiety 
for  the  child,  and  could  not  nurse  her  more  carefully.  In  a 
week  Marynia's  face  had  grown  pale  from  watching  and 
alarm  ;  there  were  dark  lines  beneath  her  eyes ;  but  her 
strength  and  energy  seemed  to  grow  hourly.  There  was  in 
her  also  so  much  sweetness  and  kindness,  something  so 
calm  and  delicate  in  the  services  which  she  rendered  Litka, 
that  the  child,  despite  the  resentment  which  she  cherished 
in  her  little  soul,  began  to  be  kind  to  her ;  and  when  she 
went  for  some  hours  to  her  father,  Litka  looked  for  her 
with  yearning. 

Finally  the  little  girl's  health  seemed  to  improve  in  the 
last  hours.  The  doctor  permitted  her  to  walk  in  the  cham- 
ber and  sit  in  an  armchair,  which  on  sunny  days  was 
pushed  to  the  door  opening  on  the  balcony,  so  that  she 
might  look  at  the  street  and  amuse  herself  with  the  mover 
ment  of  people  and  carriages. 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  149 

At  such  times  Pan  Stanislav,  Pani  Emilia,  and  Marynia 
stood  near  her  frequently ;  their  conversation  related  to 
what  was  passing  on  the  street.  Sometimes  Litka  was 
wearied,  and,  as  it  were,  thoughtful ;  at  other  times,  how- 
ever, her  child  nature  got  the  upper  hand,  and  everything 
amused  her,  —  hence  the  October  sun,  which  covered  the 
roofs,  the  walls,  and  the  panes  of  the  shop  windows  with  a 
pale  gold  ;  the  dresses  of  the  passers-by ;  the  calling  of  the 
hucksters.  It  seemed  that  those  strong  elements  of  lite, 
pulsating  in  the  whirl  of  the  city,  entered  the  child  and 
enlivened  her.  At  times  wonderful  thoughts  came  to  her 
head ;  and  once,  when  before  the  balcony  a  heavy  wagon 
was  pushing  past  which  carried  lemon-trees  in  tubs,  and 
these,  though  tied  with  chains,  moved  with  the  motion  of 
the  wagon,  she  said,  — 

"  Their  hearts  do  not  palpitate."  And  then,  raising  her 
eyes  to  Pan  Stanislav,  she  asked,  — 

"  Pan  Stas,  do  trees  live  long  ?  " 

"  Very  long ;  some  of  them  live  a  thousand  years." 

"  Oh,  I  would  like  to  be  a  tree.  And  which  does  mamma 
like  best  ?  " 

''  The  birch." 

"Then  I  would  like  to  be  a  little  birch;  and  mamma 
would  be  a  big  birch,  and  we  should  grow  together.  And 
would  Pan  Stas  like  to  be  a  birch  ?  " 

"If  I  could  grow  somewhere  not  far  from  the  little 
birch." 

Litka  looked  at  him  shaking  her  head  somewhat  sadly, 
said ,  — 

"Oh,  no!  I  know  all  now;  I  know  near  what  birch  Pan 
Stas  would  like  to  grow." 

Marynia  was  confused,  and  dropped  her  eyes  on  her 
work ;  Pan  Stanislav  began  to  stroke  lightly  with  his  palm 
the  little  blond  head,  and  said, — 

"My  dear  little  kitten,  my  dear,  my  —  my  —  " 

Litka  was  silent;  from  under  her  long  eyelids  flowed 
two  tears,  and  rolled  down  her  cheeks.  After  a  while, 
however,  she  raised  her  sweet  face,  radiant  with  a  smile, — 

"I  love  mamma  very  much,"  said  she,  "and  I  love  Pan 
Stas,  and  I  love  Marynia." 


150  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 


«?' 


CHAPTER  XVIT. 

Professor  Vaskovski  inquired  every  day  about  the 
health  of  the  little  one;  and  though  most  frequently  they 
did  not  receive  him,  he  sent  her  flowers.  Fan  Stanislav, 
meeting  him  somewhere  at  dinner,  began  thanking  him 
in  Pani  Emilia's  name. 

"Asters,  only  asters!"  said  Vaskovski.  "How  is  she 
to-day?" 

"To-day  not  ill,  but,  iu  general,  not  well;  worse  than  in 
Reichenhall.  Fear  for  each  coming  day  seizes  one;  and 
at  the  thought  that  the  child  may  be  missing  —  " 

Here  Fan  Stanislav  stopped,  for  further  words  failed 
him;  at  last  he  burst  out, — 

"What  is  the  use  in  looking  for  mercy?  There  is  noth- 
ing but  logic,  which  says  that  whoso  has  a  sick  heart  must 
die.     And  may  thunderbolts  split  such  existence  !  " 

Now  came  Bukatski,  who,  when  he  had  learned  what 
the  conversation  was,  attacked  the  professor;  even  he,  as 
he  loved  Litka,  rebelled  in  his  soul  at  thought  of  that 
death  which  was  threatening  her. 

"  How  is  it  possible  to  deceive  oneself  so  many  years, 
and  proclaim  principles  which  turn  into  nothing  in  view 
of  blind  predestination?" 

But  the  old  man  answered  mildly:  "How,  beloved 
friends,  estimate  with  your  own  measure  the  wisdom  of 
God  and  His  mercy?  A  man  under  ground  is  surrounded 
by  darkness,  but  he  has  no  right  to  deny  that  above  him 
are  sky,  sun,  heat,  and  light." 

"Here  is  consolation,"  interrupted  Pan  Stanislav;  "a 
fly  could  n't  live  on  such  doctrines.  And  what  is  a  mother 
to  do,  whose  only  and  beloved  child  is  dying?" 

But  the  blue  eyes  of  the  professor  seemed  to  look  beyond 
the  world.  For  a  time  he  gazed  straightforward  persist- 
ently; then  he  said,  like  a  man  who  sees  something,  but 
is  not  sure  that  he  sees  it  distinctly,  "  It  annears  to  me  that 
\  /^  this^child  has  fixed  herself  too  deeplyin  people's  hearts  to 
\ky  pass  away  siihply  and  disappear  without  a  trace;  There"" 
IS  sometning  in  this,  —  something  was  predestined  to  her; 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  151 

she  must  accomplish  something,  and  before  that  she  will 
not  die." 

"Mysticism,"  said  Bukatski. 

But  Pan  Stanislav  interrupted:  "Oh,  that  it  were  so, 
mysticism  or  no  mysticism !  Oh,  that  it  were  so !  A  man 
in  misfortune  grasps  even  at  a  shadow  of  hope.  It  never 
found  place  in  my  head  that  she  had  to  die." 

But  the  professor  added,  "Who  knows?  she  may  survive 
all  of  us." 

Polanyetski  was  in  that  phase  of  scepticism  in  which  a 
man  recognizes  certainty  in  nothing,  but  considers  every- 
thing possible,  especially  that  everything  which  at  the 
given  time  his  heart  yearns  for;  he  breathed  therefore 
more  easily,  and  received  certain  consolation. 

"May  God  have  mercy  on  her  and  Pani  Emilia!"  said 
he.  "I  would  give  money  for  a  hundred  Masses  if  I  knew 
they  would  help  her." 

"Give  for  one,  if  the  intention  be  sincere." 

"I  will,  I  will!  As  to  the  sincerity  of  intention,  I  could 
not  be  more  sincere  if  the  question  involved  my  own  life." 

Vaskovski  smiled  and  said,  "Thou  art  on  the  good  road, 
for  thou  knowest  how  to  love." 

And  all  teit  relieved  in  some  way.  Bukatski,  if  he 
was  thinking  of  something  opposed  to  what  Vaskovski  had 
said,  did  not  dare  mention  it;  for  when  people  in  presence 
of  real  misfortune  seek  salvation  in  faith,  scepticism,  even 
when  thoroughly  rooted,  pulls  its  cap  over  its  ears,  and 
is  not  only  cowardly,  but  seems  weak  and  small. 

Bigiel,  who  came  in  at  that  moment,  saw  more  cheerful 
faces,  and  said,  — 

"I  see  by  you  that  the  little  one  is  not  worse." 

"No,  no,"  said  Pan  Stanislav;  "and  the  professor  told 
us  such  wholesome  things  that  he  might  be  applied  to  a 
wound." 

"Praise  be  to  God!  My  wife  gave  money  for  a  Mass 
to-day,  and  went  then  to  Pani  Emilia's.  I  will  dine  with 
you,  for  1  have  leave;  and,  since  Litka  is  better,  I  will 
tell  you  another  glad  news." 

"  What  is  it?  " 

"Awhile  ago  I  met  Mashko,  who,  by  the  way,  will  be 
here  soon ;  and  when  he  comes,  congratulate  him,  for  he  is 
going  to  marry.'- 

"Whom?"  asked  Pan  Stanislav. 

"My  neighbor's  daughter." 


152  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

"  Panna  Kraslavski?  " 

"Yes." 

"  I  understand,"  said  Bukatski;  "he  crushed  those  ladies 
into  dust  with  his  grandeur,  his  birth,  his  property,  and 
out  of  that  dust  he  formed  a  wife  and  a  mother-in-law  for 
himself." 

"Tell  me  one  thing,"  said  the  professor;  "Mashko  is  a 
religious  man  —  " 

"As  a  conservative,"  interrupted  Bukatski,  "for  appear- 
ance' sake." 

"And  those  ladies,  too,"  continued  Vaskovski. 

"From  habit  —  " 

"Why  do  they  never  think  of  a  future  life?" 

"Mashko,  why  dost  thou  never  think  of  a  future  life?" 
cried  Bukatski,  turning  to  the  advocate,  who  was  coming 
in  at  that  moment. 

Mashko  approached  them  and  asked,  "  What  dost  thou 
say?" 

"I  will  say  Tu  felix,  Mashko,  nube!"  (Thou,  Mashko, 
art  fortunate  in  marriage !) 

Then  all  began  to  offer  congratulations,  which  he  received 
with  full  weight  of  dignity ;  at  the  end  he  said,  — 

"My  dear  friends,  I  thank  you  from  my  whole  heart; 
and,  since  ye  all  know  my  betrothed,  I  have  no  doubt  of 
the  sincerity  of  your  wishes." 

"Do  not  permit  thyself  one,"  said  Bukatski. 

"But  Kremen  came  to  thee  in  season,"  interjected  Pan 
Stanislav. 

Indeed,  Kremen  had  come  to  Mashko  in  season,  for  with- 
out it  he  might  not  have  been  accepted.  But  for  that  very 
cause  the  remark  was  not  agreeable;  hence  he  made  a  wry 
face,  and  answered,  — 

"Thou  didst  make  that  purchase  easy;  sometimes  I  am 
thankful  to  thee,  and  sometimes  I  curse  thee." 

"Why  so?" 

"For  thy  dear  Uncle  Plavitski  is  the  most  annoying, 
the  most  unendurable  figure  on  earth,  omitting  thy  cousin, 
who  is  a  charming  young  lady;  but  from  morning  till 
evening  she  rings  changes  on  her  never  to  be  sufficiently 
regretted  Kremen,  through  all  the  seven  notes,  adding  at 
each  one  a  tear.  Thou  art  seldom  at  their  house;  but, 
believe  me,  to  be  there  is  uncommonly  wearisome." 

Pan  Stanislav  looked  into  his  eyes  and  answered,  "  Listen, 
Mashko:    against  my  uncle  I  have  said  everything  that 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  163 

could  hit  him ;  but  it  does  not  follow,  therefore,  that  I  am 
to  listen  patiently  if  another  attacks  Plavitski,  especially 
a  man  who  has  made  profit  by  him.  As  to  Panna  Marynia, 
she  is  sorry,  I  know,  for  Kremen;  but  this  proves  that  she 
is  not  an  empty  puppet,  or  a  manikin,  but  a  woman  with  a 
heart;  dost  understand  me?" 

A  moment  of  silence  followed.  Mashko  understood  per- 
fectly whom  Pan  Stanislav  had  in  mind  when  he  mentioned 
the  empty  doll  and  manikia;  hence  the  freckles  on  his  face 
became  brick-colored,  and  his  lips  began  to  quiver.  But 
he  restrained  himself.  He  was  in  no  sense  a  coward;  but 
even  the  man  who  is  most  daring  has  usually  some  one 
with  whom  he  has  no  wish  to  quarrel,  and  for  Mashko 
Polanyetski  was  such  a  one.  Therefore,  shrugging  his 
shoulders,  he  said, — 

"  Why  art  thou  angry?    If  that  is  unpleasing  to  thee  —  " 

But  Pan  Stanislav  interrupted,  "I  am  not  angry;  but  I 
advise  thee  to  remember  my  words."  And  he  looked  him 
in  the  eyes  again. 

Mashko  thought,  "  If  thou  wilt  have  an  adventure  any- 
how, thou  caust  have  it." 

"Thy  words,"  said  he,  "I  can  remember;  only  do  thou 
take  counsel  also  from  me.  Permit  not  thyself  to  speak 
in  that  tone  to  me,  else  I  might  forget  myself  also,  and  call 
thee  to  reckoning." 

"What  the  deuce  —  "  began  Bukatski.  "What  is  the 
matter  with  thee?  " 

But  Pan  Stanislav,  in  whom  irritation  against  Mashko 
has  been  gathering  for  a  long  time,  would  beyond  doubt 
have  pushed  matters  to  extremes  had  not  Pani  Emilia's 
servant  rushed  into  the  room  at  that  moment. 

"I  beg,"  said  he,  with  a  panting  voice;  "the  little  lady 
is  dying!" 

Pan  Stanislav  grew  pale,  and,  seizing  his  hat,  sprang  to 
the  door.  A  long,  dull  silence  followed,  which  Mashko 
interrupted  at  last. 

"I  forgot,"  said  he,  "that  everything  should  be  forgiven 
him  at  present." 

Vaskovski,  covering  his  eyes  with  his  hands,  began  to 
pray.     At  length  he  raised  his  head  and  said,  — 

"God  alone  has  bridled  death,  and  has  power  to  restrain 

it." 

A  quarter  of  an  hour  later,  Bigiel  received  a  note  from 
his  wife  with  the  words,  "The  attack  has  passed. 


154  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

Pan  Stanislav  hurried  to  Pani  Emilia's,  feaiiug  that 
he  would  not  find  Litka  living;  for  the  servant  told  him 
on  the  way  that  the  little  lady  was  in  convulsions,  and 
dying.  But  when  he  arrived,  Pani  Emilia  ran  to  meet  him, 
and  from  the  depth  of  her  breast  threw  out  in  one  breath 
the  words,   "Better!  better!" 

"Is  the  doctor  here?" 

"He  is." 

"But  the  little  one?" 

"Is  sleeping." 

On  the  face  of  Pani  Emilia  the  remnants  of  fear  were 
struggling  with  hope  and  joy.  Pan  Stanislav  noticed  that 
her  lips  were  almost  white,  her  eyes  dry  and  red,  her  face 
in  blotches;  she  was  mortally  wearied,  for  she  had  not 
slept  for  twenty-four  hours.  But  the  doctor,  a  young  man, 
and  energetic,  looked  on  the  danger  as  passed  for  the  time. 
Pani  Emilia  was  strengthened  by  what  he  told  her  in 
presence  of  Pan  Stanislav,  especially  this:  "We  should 
not  let  it  come  to  a  second  attack,  and  we  will  not." 

There  was  real  consolation  in  these  words,  for  evidently 
the  doctor  considered  that  they  were  able  to  ward  off 
another  attack;  still  there  was  a  warning  that  another 
attack  might  be  fatal.  But  Pani  Emilia  grasped  at  every 
hope,  as  a  man  falling  over  a  precipice  grasps  at  the 
branches  of  trees  growing  out  on  the  edge  of  it. 

"We  will  not;  we  will  not!"  repeated  she,  pressing  the 
doctor's  hand  feverishly. 

Pan  Stanislav  looked  into  his  eyes  unobserved,  wishing 
to  read  in  them  whether  he  said  this  to  pacify  the  mother, 
or  on  the  basis  of  medical  conviction,  and  asked  as  a 
test,  — 

"  You  will  not  leave  her  to-day?  " 

"I  do  not  see  the  least  need  of  staying,"  answered  he. 
"The  child  is  exhausted,  and  is  like  to  sleep  long  and 
soundly.  I  will  come  to-morrow,  but  to-day  I  can  go  with 
perfect  safety."     Then  he  turned  to  Pani  Emilia,  — 

"You  must  rest,  too.    All  danger  has  passed;  the  patient 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  155 

should  not  see  on  your  face  any  suffering  or  alarm,  for  she 
might  be  disturbed,  and  she  is  too  weak  to  endure  that." 

"I  could  not  fall  asleep,"  said  Pani  Emilia, 

The  doctor  turned  his  pale  blue  eyes  to  her,  and,  gazing 
into  her  face  with  a  certain  intensity,  said  slowly, 

"In  an  hour  you  will  lie  down,  and  will  fall  asleep 
directly ;  you  will  sleep  unbrokeuly  for  six  or  eight  hours, 
—  let  us  say  eight.  To-morrow  you  will  be  strong  and 
refreshed.     And  now  good-night." 

"But  drops  to  the  little  one,  if  she  wakes?"  asked  Pani 
Emilia. 

"Another  will  give  the  drops;  you  will. sleep.  Good- 
night."    And  he  took  farewell. 

Pan  Stanislav  wished  to  follow  him  to  inquire  alone 
about  Litka,  but  he  thought  that  a  longer  talk  of  that  kind 
might  alarm  Pani  Emilia;  hence  he  preferred  to  omit  it, 
promising  himself  that  in  the  morning  he  would  go  to  the 
doctor's  house  and  talk  there  with  him.  After  a  while, 
when  he  was  alone  with  Pani  Emilia,  he  said,  — 

"Do  as  the  doctor  directed;  you  need  rest.  I  j^romise 
to  go  to  Litka's  room  now,  and  I  will  not  leave  her  the 
whole  night." 

But  Pani  Emilia's  thoughts  were  all  with  the  little  girl; 
so,  instead  of  an  answer,  she  said  to  him  directly,  — 

"  Do  you  know,  after  the  attack,  she  asked  several  times 
for  you  before  she  fell  asleep.  And  for  Marynia  too.  She 
fell  asleep  with  the  question,    '  Where  is  Pan  Stas?  ' " 

"My  poor  beloved  child,  I  should  have  come  anyhow 
right  after  dinner.  I  flew  here  barely  alive.  When  did 
the  attack  begin?" 

"In  the  forenoon.  From  the  morning  she  was  gloomy, 
as  if  foreboding  something.  You  know  that  in  my  presence 
she  says  always  that  she  is  well;  but  she  must  have  felt 
ill,  for  before  the  attack  she  sat  near  me  and  begged  me  to 
hold  her  hand.  Yesterday,  I  forgot  to  tell  you  that  she 
put  such  strange  questions  to  me:  'Is  it  true,'  inquired 
she,  '  that  if  a  sick  child  asks  for  a  thing  it  is  never  re- 
fused? '  I  answered  that  it  is  not  refused  unless  the  child 
asks  for  something  impossible.  Some  idea  was  passing 
through  her  head  evidently,  for  in  the  evening,  when 
Marynia  ran  in  for  a  moment,  she  put  like  questions  to  us. 
She  went  to  sleep  in  good  humor,  but  this  morning  early 
she  complained  of  stifling.  It  is  lucky  that  I  sent  for  the 
doctor  before  the  attack,  and  that  he  came  promptly." 


156  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

"It  is  the  greatest  luck  that  he  went  away  with  such 
certainty  that  the  attack  would  uot  be  repeated.  I  am 
perfectly  sure  that  that  is  his  conviction,"  answered  Pan 
Stanislav. 

Pani  Emilia  raised  her  eyes:  "The  Lord  God  is  so  mer- 
ciful, so  good,  that  —  " 

In  spite  of  all  her  efforts,  she  began  to  sob,  for  repressed 
alarm  and  despair  were  changed, to  joy  in  her,  and  she 
found  relief  in  tears.  In  that  noble  and  spiritualized 
nature,  innate  exaltation  disturbed  calm  thought;  by  reason 
of  this,  Pani  Emilia  never  gave  an  account  to  herself  of  the 
real  state  of  affairs;  now,  for  example,  she  had  not  the 
least  doubt  that  Litka's  illness  had  ended  once  for  all  with 
this  recent  attack,  and  that  thenceforth  a  time  of  perfect 
health  would  begin  for  the  child. 

Pan  Stanislav  had  neither  the  wish  nor  the  heart  to  show 
her  a  middle  road  between  delight  and  despair;  his  heart 
rose  with  great  pity  for  her,  and  there  came  to  him  one  of 
those  moments  in  which  he  felt  more  clearly  than  usually 
how  deeply,  though  disinterestedly,  he  was  attached  to 
that  enthusiastic  and  idealistic  woman.  If  she  had  been 
his  sister,  he  would  have  embraced  her  and  pressed  her  to 
his  bosom;  as  it  was,  he  kissed  her  delicate,  thin  hands, 
and  said,  — 

"  Praise  be  to  God ;  praise  be  to  God !  Let  the  dear  lady 
think  now  of  herself,  and  I  will  go  to  the  little  one  and 
not  stir  till  she  wakes."     And  he  went. 

In  Litka's  chamber  there  was  darkness,  for  the  window- 
blinds  were  closed,  and  the  sun  was  going  down.  Only 
through  the  slats  did  some  reddish  rays  force  their  way; 
these  lighted  the  chamber  imperfectly  and  vanished  soon,  for 
the  sky  began  to  grow  cloudy.  Litka  was  sleeping  soundly. 
Pan  Stanislav,  sitting  near  her,  looked  on  her  sleeping  face, 
and  at  the  first  moment  his  heart  was  oppressed  painfully. 
She  was  lying  with  her  face  toward  the  ceiling;  her  thin 
little  hands  were  placed  on  the  coverlid;  her  eyes  were 
closed,  and  under  them  was  a  deep  shadow  from  the  lashes. 
Her  pallor,  which  seemed  waxen  in  that  reddish  half- 
gloom,  and  her  open  mouth,  finally,  the  deep  sleep,  —  gave 
her  face  the  seeming  of  such  rest  as  the  faces  of  the  dead 
have.  But  the  movement  of  the  ruffles  on  her  nightdress 
showed  that  she  was  living  and  breathing.  Her  respira- 
tion was  even  calm  and  very  regular.  Pan  Stanislav 
looked  for  a  long  time  at  that  sick  face,  and  felt  again, 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  157 

with  full  force,  what  he  had  felt  often,  when  he  thought 
of  himself, — namely,  that  nature  had  made  him  to  be  a 
father;  that,  besides  the  woman  of  his  choice,  children 
might  be  the  immense  love  of  his  life,  the  chief  object  and 
reason  of  his  existence.  He  understood  this,  through  the 
pity  and  love  which  he  felt  at  that  moment  for  Litka,  who, 
a  stranger  to  him  by  birth,  was  as  dear  to  him  then  as  would 
have  been  his  own  child. 

"If  she  had  been  given  to  me,"  thought  he;  "if  she 
lacked  a  mother,  —  I  would  take  her  forever,  and  consider 
that  I  had  something  to  live  for." 

And  he  felt  also  that  were  it  possible  to  make  a  bargain 
with  death,  he  would  have  given  himself  without  hesita- 
tion  to  redeem  that  little  "kitten,"  over  whom  death  seemed 
then  to  be  floating  like  a  bird  of  prey  over  a  dove.  Such 
tenderness  seized  him  as  he  had  not  felt  till  that  hour;  and 
that  man ,  of  a  character  rather  quick  and  harsh ,  was  ready 
to  kiss  the  hands  and  head  of  that  child,  with  a  tenderness 
of  which  not  even  every  woman's  heart  is  capable. 

Meanwhile  it  had  grown  dark.  Soon  Pani  Emilia  came 
in,  shading  with  her  hand  a  blue  night-lamp. 

"  She  is  sleeping  ?  "  asked  she,  in  a  low  voice,  placing 
the  lamp  on  the  table  beyond  Litka's  head. 

"  She  is,"  answered  Pan  Stanislav,  in  an  equally  low 
voice. 

Pani  Emilia  looked  long  at  the  sleeping  child. 

"  See,"  whispered  Pan  Stanislav,  "  how  regularly  and 
calmly  she  breathes.  To-morrow  she  will  be  healthier  and 
stronger." 

"Yes,"  answered  the  mother,  with  a  smile. 

"Xow  it  is  your  turn.  Sleep,  sleep!  otherwise  I  shall 
begin  to  command  without  pity." 

Her  eyes  continued  to  smile  at  him  thankfully.  In  the 
mild  blue  light  of  tlie  night-lamp  she  seemed  like  an 
apparition.  She  had  a  perfectly  angelic  face ;  and  Pan 
Stanislav  thought  in  spite  of  himself  that  she  and  Litka 
looked  really  like  forms  from  beyond  the  earth,  which  by 
pure  chance  had  wandered  into  this  world. 

"Yes,"  answered  she;  "I  will  rest  now.  Marynia  has 
come,  and  Professor  Vaskovski.  IMarynia  wishes  absolutely 
to  remain." 

"So  much  the  better.  She  manages  so  well  near  the 
little  girl.     Good-night." 

"  Good-night." 


158  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

Pan  Stanislav  was  alone  again,  and  began  to  think  of 
Marynia.  At  the  very  intelligence  that  he  would  see  her 
soon  he  could  not  think  of  aught  else ;  and  now  he  put  the 
question  to  himself  :  '*  In  what  lies  this  wonderful  secret 
of  nature  in  virtue  of  which  1,  for  example,  did  not  fall  in 
love  with  Pani  Emilia,  decidedly  more  beautiful  than 
Marynia,  likely  better,  sweeter,  more  capable  of  loving,  — 
but  with  that  girl  whom  I  know  incomparably  less,  and, 
justly  or  unjustly,  honor  less  ?  "  Still  with  every  approach 
of  his  to  Marynia  there  rose  in  him  immediately  all  those 
impulses  which  a  man  may  feel  at  sight  of  a  chosen  woman, 
while  a  real  womanly  form,  like  that  of  Pani  Emilia,  made 
no  other  impression  on  him  than  if  she  had  been  a  painting 
or  a  carving.  Why  is  this,  and  why,  the  more  culture  a 
man  has,  the  more  his  nerves  become  subtile,  and  his  sensi- 
tiveness keener,  the  greater  difference  does  he  make  be- 
tween woman  and  woman  ?  Pan  Stanislav  had  no  answer 
to  this  save  the  one  which  that  doctor  in  love  with  Panna 

Kraslavski  had  given  him :  "  I  estimate  her  coolly,  but   1 

cannot  tear  my  soul  from  her."  That  was  rather  the 
description  of  a  phenomenon  tlian  an  answer,  for  which, 
moreover,  he  had  not  the  time,  since  Marynia  came  in  at 
that  moment. 

They  nodded  in  salutation ;  he  raised  a  chair  tlien,  and 
put  it  down  softly  at  Litka's  bed,  letting  Marynia  know 
by  a  sign  that  she  was  to  sit  there.  She  began  to  speak 
first,  or  rather,  to  whisper. 

"  Gro  to  tea  now.     Professor  Vaskovski  is  here." 

"  And  Pani  Emilia  ?  " 

"  She  could  not  sit  up.  She  said  that  it  was  a  wonder 
to  her,  but  she  must  sleep." 

"  I  know  why  :  the  doctor  hypnotized  her,  and  he  did 
well.     The   little  girl  is  indeed  better." 

Marynia  gazed  into  his  eyes  ;  but  he  repeated,  — 

"  She  is  really  better  —  if  the  attack  will  not  return, 
and  there  is  hope  that  it  will  not." 

"  Ah !  praise  be  to  God  !     But  go  now  and  drink  tea." 

He  preferred,  however,  to  whisper  to  her  near  by  and 
confidentially,  so  he  said,  — 

"  I  will,  I  will ;  but  later.  Let  us  arrange  meanwhile  so 
that  you  may  rest.  I  have  heard  that  your  father  is  ill. 
Of  course  you  have  been  watching  over  him." 

"  Father  is  well  now,  and  I  wish  to  take  Emilia's  place 
absolutely.    She  told  me  that  the  servants  had  not  slept 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  159 

either  all  last  night,  for  the  child's  condition  was  alarming 
before  the  attack.  It  is  needful  now  that  some  one  be  on 
the  watch  always.  I  should  wish,  therefore,  so  to  arrange 
that  we  —  that  is,  I,  you,  and  Emilka  —  should  follow  in 
turn." 

"  Very  well ;  but  to-day  I  will  remain.  If  not  here,  I 
shall  be  at  call  in  the  next  chamber.  When  did  you  hear 
of  the  attack  ?  " 

"  I  did  not  hear  of  it.  I  came  as  I  do  usually  in  the 
evening  to  learn  what  was  to  be  heard." 

"  Pani  Emilia's  servant  hurried  to  me  while  I  was  din- 
ing. You  can  imagine  easily  how  I  flew  hither.  I  was 
not  sure  of  finding  her  alive.  What  wonder,  since  during 
dinner  I  talked  almost  all  the  time  of  Litka  with  Bukatski 
and  Vaskovski,  till  Mashko  came  with  the  announcement 
of  his  marriage." 

"  Is  Mashko  going  to  marry  ?  " 

"  Yes.  The  news  has  not  gone  around  yet ;  but  he  an- 
nounced it  himself.  He  marries  Panna  Kraslavski ;  you  re- 
member her  ?  " 

"  She  who  was  at  the  Bigiels  that  evening.  She  is  a  good 
match  for  IVIashko,  Panna  Kraslavski." 

There  was  silence  for  a  moment.  Marynia,  who,  not  loving 
Mashko,  had  rejected  his  hand,  but  who  more  than  once 
had  reproached  herself  for  her  conduct  with  regard  to  him, 
thinking  that  she  had  exposed  him  to  deception  and  suffer- 
ing, could  find  only  comfort  in  the  news  that  the  young 
advocate  had  borne  the  blow  so  easil3^  Still  the  news 
astonished  her  for  the  time,  and  also  wounded  her. 
Women,  when  they  sympathize  with  some  one,  wish  first 
that  some  one  to  be  really  unhappy,  and,  secondly,  they 
wish  to  alleviate  the  misfortune  themselves;  when  it 
turns  out  that  another  is  able  to  do  that,  they  undergo  a 
certain  disillusion.  Marynia's  self-love  was  wounded  also 
doubly.  She  had  not  thought  that  it  would  be  so  easy  to 
forget  her;  hence  she  had  to  confess  that  her  idea  of 
Mashko  as  an  exceptional  man  had  no  basis.  He  had  been 
for  her  hitherto  a  kind  of  ace  in  the  game  against  Pan 
Stanislav  ;  now  he  had  ceased  to  be  that.  She  felt,  there- 
fore, let  matters  be  as  they  might,  somewhat  conquered. 
This  did  not  prevent  her,  it  is  true,  from  informing  Pan 
Stanislav,  with  a  certain  accent  of  truth,  that  his  news 
caused  her  sincere  and  deep  joy,  but  at  bottom  she  felt 
in  some  sort  offended  by  him  because  he  had  told  her. 


160  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

For  a  certain  time  Pan  Stanislav  had  acted  with  her 
very  reservedly,  and  in  nothing  had  he  betrayed  what  was 
liappening  within  him.  He  did  not  feign  to  be  too  cool,  for 
they  had  to  meet ;  therefore,  in  meeting  her  he  maintained 
even  a  certain  kindly  freedom,  but  for  this  very  reason  she 
judged  that  he  had  ceased  to  love  her,  and  such  is  human 
nature,  that  though  the  old  offence  was  existing  yet,  and  had 
even  increased  in  the  soul  of  the  young  woman,  though  her 
first  disillusion  had  changed  as  it  were  into  a  spring,  giving 
forth  new  bitterness  continually,  still  the  thought  that  her 
repugnance  was  indifferent  to  him  irritated  Marynia.  Now 
it  seemed  to  her  that  Pan  Stanislav  must  even  triumph  over 
her  mistake  as  to  Mashko ;  and  at  this,  that  in  every  case 
she,  who  shortly  before  had  the  choice  between  Mashko  and 
him,  has  that  choice  no  longer,  and  will  fall,  as  it  were,  into 
a  kind  of  neglect  somewhat  humiliating. 

But  he  was  far  from  such  thoughts.  He  was  glad,  it  is 
true,  that  Marynia  should  know  that,  by  exalting  Mashko 
above  him,  she  had  been  mistaken  fundamentally ;  but  he 
had  not  dreamed  even  of  taking  pleasure  in  this  or  triumph- 
ing because  of  her  isolation,  for  at  every  moment  and  at 
that  time  more  than  any  other  he  was  ready  to  open  his 
arms  to  her,  press  her  to  his  bosom,  and  love  her.  He 
was  working,  it  is  true,  continually  and  even  with  stubborn- 
ness to  break  in  himselt  those  feelings;  biit  he  did  this  only 
because  he  saw  no  hope  before  him,  and  considered  it  an 
offence  against  his  dignity  as  a  man  to  put  all  the  powers 
of  his  soul  and  heart  into  a  feeling  which  was  not  returned. 
To  use  his  own  expression,  he  wished  to  avoid  surrender, 
and  he  did  avoid  surrender,  to  the  best  of  his  power  ;  but  he 
understood  perfectly  that  such  a  struggle  exhausts,  and 
that  even  if  it  ends  with  victory  it  brings  a  void,  instead  of 
happiness.  Besides,  he  was  far  yet  from  victory.  After  all 
his  efforts  he  had  arrived  at  this  only,  —  that  his  feeling  was 
mingled  with  bitterness.  Such  a  ferment  dissolves  love,  it 
is  ti"ue,  for  the  simple  reason  that  it  poisons  it ;  and  in  time 
this  bitterness  might  have  dissolved  love  in  Pan  Stanislav's 
heart.  But  what  an  empty  result!  Sitting  then  near 
Marynia  and  looking  at  her  face  and  head,  shone  on  by  the 
light  of  the  lamp,  he  said  to  himself,  ''If  only  she  wished!" 
That  thought  made  him  angry ;  but  since  he  wanted  to  be 
sincere  with  himself,  he  had  to  confess  that  if  only  she 
wished  he  would  bend  to  her  feet  Avith  the  greatest  readi- 
ness.   What  an  empty  result,  then,  and  what  a  position  with- 


CHILDREN  OF  THE   SOIL.  161 

out  escape!  For  he  felt  that  the  misunderstanding  between 
them  had  increased  so  much  that  even  if  Marynia  de- 
sired a  return  of  those  moments  passed  in  Kremen,  self- 
love  and  fear  of  self-contradiction  would  close  her  lips. 
Their  relations  had  become  so  entangled  that  they  might 
fall  in  love  more  easily  a  second  time  than  come  to  an 
understanding. 

After  a  short  conversation  there  was  silence  between 
them,  interrupted  only  by  the  breathing  of  the  sick  child 
and  the  slight,  but  mournful,  sounds  of  the  window-panes, 
on  which  fine  rain  was  striking.  Outside,  the  night  had 
grown  wet ;  it  was  autumnal,  bringing  with  it  oppression, 
gloom,  pessimism,  and  discontent.  Equally  gloomy  seemed 
that  chamber,  in  whose  dark  corners  death  appeared  to  be 
lurking.  Hour  followed  hour  more  slowly.  All  at  once 
forebodings  seized  Pan  Stanislav.  He  looked  at  Litka  on  a 
sudden,  and  it  seemed  to  him  madness  to  suppose  that  she 
could  recover.  Vain  was  watching!  vain  were  hopes  and 
illusions!  That  child  must  die!  she  must  all  the  more 
surely,  the  dearer  she  was.  Pani  Emilia  will  follow  her ; 
and  then  there  will  be  a  desert  really  hopeless.  What  a 
life  !  See,  he,  Polanyetski,  has  those  two,  the  onlybeings 
in  the  world  who  love  him,  —  beings  for  whom  he  is  some- 
thing ;  therefore  it  is  clear  that  he  must  lose  them.  With 
them  there  would  be  something  in  life  to  which  he  could 
adhere  ;  without  them  there  will  be  only  nothingness  and  a 
certain  kind  of  future,  blind,  deaf,  unreasoning,  with  the 
face  of  an  idiot. 

The  most  energetic  man  needs  some  one  to  love  him. 
Otherwise  he  feels  death  within,  and  his  energy  turns  against 
life.  A  moment  like  that  had  come  now  to  Pan  Stanislav. 
"  I  do  not  know  absolutely  why  I  should  not  fire  into  my 
forehead,"  thought  he,  "  not  from  despair  at  losing  them,  but 
because  of  the  nothing  without  them.  If  life  must  be  sense- 
less, there  is  no  reason  to  permit  this  senselessness,  unless 
through  curiosity  to  learn  how  far  it  can  go."  But  this 
thought  did  not  appear  in  him  as  a  plan ;  it  was  rather  the 
effort  of  a  man  writhing  at  the  chain  of  misfortune,  a  burst 
of  anger  in  a  man  seeking  some  one  against  whom  to  turn. 
In  Pan  Stanislav  this  anger  turned  suddenly  on  Marynia. 
He  did  not  know  himself  why  ;  but  it  seemed  to  him  at 
once  that  all  the  evil  which  had  happened,  had  happened 
through  her.  She  had  brought  into  their  circle  a  dislike  not 
there  before,  suffering  not  there  before,  and  had  thrown,  as 

11 


162  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

it  wei-e,  some  stone  into  their  smooth  water ;  and  now  the 
wave,  which  was  spreading  more  and  more  widely,  covered 
not  only  him,  but  Pani  Emilia  and  Litka.  As  a  man  govern- 
ing himself  by  judgment,  not  by  nerves,  he  understood  how 
vain  were  reproaches  of  this  sort ;  still  he  could  not  put  down 
the  remembrance  that  before  Marynia  came  it  was  better  in 
every  way,  and  so  much  better  even,  that  he  might  consider 
that  as  a  happy  period  of  his  life.  He  loved  then  only 
Litka,  with  that  untroubled,  fatherly  feeling,  which  did  not 
and  could  not  bring  bitterness  for  a  moment.  Who  .knows, 
besides,  if  in  time  he  might  not  have  been  able  to  love  Pani 
Emilia  ?  She,  it  is  true,  had  not  for  him  other  feelings  than 
those  of  friendship,  but  perhaps  only  because  he  did  not 
desire  other  feelings.  High-minded  women  frequently  re- 
fuse themselves  feelings  which  go  beyond  the  boundary  of 
friendship,  so  as  not  to  render  difficult  and  involved  the  life 
of  some  one  who  might,  but  does  not  wish  to  become  dear. 
Meanwhile  in  the  depth  of  the  soul  lies  a  calm  secret 
melancholy ;  they  find  sweetness  and  consolation  in  the 
tenderness  permitted  by  friendship. 

Pan  Stauislav,  by  becoming  acquainted  with  ^rarynia,  gave 
her  at  once  the  best  part  of  his  feelings.  Why  ?  for  what 
purpose  ?  Only  to  give  himself  suffering.  Now,  to  com- 
plete the  misfortune,  that  Litka,  the  one  ray  of  liis  life, 
had  died,  or  might  die  any  moment.  Pan  Stanislav  looked 
again  at  her,  and  said  in  his  soul,  — 

"  Remain  even,  thou  dear  child ;  thou  knowst  not  how 
needful  thou  art  to  me  and  to  thy  mother.  God  guard 
thee ;  what  a  life  there  will  be  without  thee  ! " 

Suddenly  he  saw  that  the  eyes  of  the  child  were  looking 
at  him.  For  a  while  he  thought  himself  mistaken,  and  did 
not  dare  to  stir ;  but  the  little  maiden  smiled,  and  finally 
she  whispered, — 

"  Pan  Stas." 

"  It  is  I,  Litus.    How  dost  thou  feel  ?  " 

"  Well ;  but  where  is  mamma  ?  " 

"  She  will  come  right  away.  We  had  a  great  struggle  to 
make  her  go  to  bed  to  sleep,  and  we  hardly  persuaded  her." 

Litka  turned  her  head,  and,  seeing  Marynia,  said, — 

"  Ah  !  is  that  Aunt  Marynia?  " 

For  some  time  she  had  called  her  aunt. 

Marynia  rose,  and,  taking' the  vial  which  stood  on  the 
shelf,  poured  drop  after  drop  into  a  spoon;  then  she  gave 
them  to  Litka,  who,  when  she  had  finished  drinking, 
pressed  her  lips  tQ  Marynia's  forehead. 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  163 

A  moment  of  silence  followed;  then  the  child  said,  as  if 

to  herself, — 

"There  is  no  need  of  waking  mamma." 

"No;  no  one  will  wake  her,"  answered  Pan  Stanislav. 
*'A11  will  be  as  Litus  wishes." 

And  he  began  to  stroke  her  hand,  which  was  lying  on 
the  coverlid.  She  looked  at  him,  repeating,  as  was  her 
wont,  — ' 

"Fan  Stas,  Pan  Stas!" 

For  a  while  it  seemed  that  she  would  fall  asleep;  but 
evidently  the  child  was  thinking  of  something  with  great 
effort,  for  her  brows  rose.  At  last,  opening  widely  her 
eyes,  she  looked  now  at  Pan  Stanislav,  and  now  at  Marynia. 
In  the  room  nothing  was  heard  save  the  sound  of  rain  on 
the  windows. 

"What  is  the  matter  with  the  child?"  asked  Marynia, 

But  she,  clasping  her  hands,  whispered  in  a  voice  barely 
audible,  "I  have  a  great,  great  prayer  to  Aunt  Marynia, 
but  —  I  am  afraid  to  say  it." 

Marynia  bent  her  mild  face  toward  the  little  girl. 

"Speak,  my  love;  I  will  do  everything  for  thee." 

Then  the  little  girl,  seizing  her  hand,  and  pressing  it  to 
her  lips,  whispered,  — 

"I  want  Aunt  Marynia  to  love  Pan  Stas." 

In  the  silence  which  followed  after  these  words  was  to 
be  heard  only  the  somewhat  increased  breathing  of  the 
little  girl.     At  last  the  calm  voice  of  Marynia  was  heard, — 

"Very  well,  my  love." 

A  spasm  of  weeping  seized  Pan  Stanislav  suddenly  by 
the  throat;  everything,  not  excluding  Marynia,  vanished 
from  his  eyes  before  that  child,  who,  at  such  a  moment, 
sick,  powerless,  and  in  the  face  of  death,  thought  only 
of  him. 

Litka  asked  further,  — 

"And  will  aunt  marry  Pan  Stas?" 

In  the  light  of  the  blue  lamp  Marynia's  face  seemed 
very  pale;  her  lips  quivered,  but  she  answered  without 
hesitation, — 

"I  will,  Litus." 

The  little  girl  raised  Marynia's  hand  to  her  lips  a  second 
time;  her  he^ad  fell  on  the  pillow,  and  she  lay  for  a  while 
with  closed  lids;  after  some  time,  however,  two  tears 
flowed  down  her  cheeks.  Then  followed  a  longer  silence; 
the   rain   was   beating   against  the   window-panes.      Pan 


X64  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

Stanislav  and  Marynia  were  sitting  motionless  without 
looking  at  each  other;  both  felt,  however,  that  their  fates 
liad  been  decided  that  night,  but  they  v/ere  as  it  aazed 
by  what  had  happened.  In  the  chaos  of  thought  and  reel- 
ings neither  of  them  knew  how  to  note  or  indicate  what 
was  passing  within  them.  In  that  silence,  which  was 
kept  instinctively,  lest  perchance  they  might  look  each 
other  in  the  eyes,  hour  followed  hour.  The  clock  struck 
midnight,  then  one;  about  two  Pani  Emilia  slipped  in  like 
a  shadow. 

"Is  she  sleeping?"  inquired  she. 

"No,  mamma,"  answered  Litka. 

"Art  thou  well?" 

"Well,  mamma." 

And  when  Pani  Emilia  sat  near  her  bed,  the  little  one 
embraced  her  neck;  and,  nestling  her  yellow  head  at  her 
breast,  she  said,  — 

"  I  know  now,  mamma,  that  when  a  sick  child  begs  for 
anything,  people  never  refuse." 

And  she  nestled  up  to  her  mother  some  time  yet;  then, 
drawing  out  each  word  as  sleepy  children  do,  or  very 
tired  ones,  she  said,  — 

"Pan  Stas  will  not  be  sad  any  more;  and  I  will  tell 
mamma  why  —  " 

But  here  her  head  became  heavy  on  her  mother's  breast, 
and  Pani  Emilia  felt  the  cold  sweat  coming  on  the  hands 
of  the  child,  as  well  as  on  her  temples. 

"  Litus  ! "  exclaimed  she,  with  a  suppressed,  frightened 
voice. 

And  the  child  began,  — 

"I  feel  so  strange,  so  weak  —  " 

Her  thoughts  grew  dim ;  and  after  a  while  she  continued, — 

"Oh,  the  sea  is  rolling  —  such  a  big  sea!  —  and  we  are 
all  sailing  on  it.     Mamma !  mamma ! " 

And  a  new  attack  came,  dreadful,  pitiless.  The  little 
girl's  body  was  drawn  in  convulsions,  and  her  eyesiglit 
turned  toward  the  back  of  her  head.  There  was  no  chance 
of  illusion  this  time;  death  was  at  hand,  and  visible  in  the 
pale  light  of  the  lamp,  in  the  dark  corner  of  the  room,  in 
the  sound  of  the  window-panes,  stricken  by  the  rain,  and 
in  the  noise  of  the  wind,  full  of  terrified  voices  and  cries. 

Pan  Stanislav  sprang  up  and  ran  for  the  doctor.  In  a 
quarter  of  an  hour  both  appeared  before  the  closed  doors 
of  the  room,  uncertain  whether  the  child  was  living  yet, 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  165 

and  they  disappeared  through  it  immediately,  —  first  Pan 
Stanislav,  then  the  doctor,  who,  from  the  moment  that 
they  had  pulled  him  out  of  bed,  kept  repeating  one  phrase, 
"Is  it  fear  or  emotion?" 

Some  of  the  servants,  with  sleepy  and  anxious  faces, 
were  gathered  at  the  door,  listening;  and- in  the  whole 
house  followed  a  silence,  long  continued,  which  weighed 
down  like  lead. 

It  was  broken  at  last  by  Marynia,  who  was  the  first  tc 
come  out  of  the  closed  chamber,  her  face  as  pale  as  linen _ 
and  she  said  hurriedly, — 

"Water  for  the  lady!  the  little  lady  is  living  no  longer." 


166  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 


CHAPTER  XrX. 


Autumn,  in  its  last  days,  smiles  on  people  at  times  with 
immense  sadness,  but  mildly,  like  a  woman  dying  of 
decline.  It  was  on  such  a  mild  day  that  Litka's  funeral 
took  place.  There  is  pain  mingled  with  a  certain  consola- 
tion in  this, — that  those  left  behind  think  of  their  dead 
and  feel  the  loss  of  them.  Pan  Stanislav,  occupied  with 
the  funeral,  Avas  penetrated  by  that  calm  and  pensive  day 
with  still  greater  sadness ;  but,  transferring  Litka's  feelings 
to  himself,  he  thought  that  the  child  would  have  wished 
just  such  a  day  for  her  burial,  and  he  found  in  this  thought 
a  certain  solace.  Till  that  moment  he  had  not  been  able 
simply  to  measure  his  sorrow;  such  knowledge  comes  later, 
and  begins  only  when  the  loved  one  is  left  in  the  grave- 
yard, and  a  man  returns  by  himself  to  his  empty  house. 
Besides,  preparations  for  the  funeral  had  consumed  Pan 
Stanislav's  whole  time.  Life  has  surrounded  with  arti- 
ficial forms,  and  has  complicated,  such  a  simple  act  as  death. 
Pan  Stanislav  wished  to  show  Litka  that  last  service, 
which,  moreover,  there  was  no  one  else  to  perform.  All 
those  springs  of  life  through  which  man  thinks,  resolves, 
and  acts,  were  severed  in  Pani  Emilia  by  the  death  of  her 
child.  This  time  the  wind  seemed  too  keen  for  the  fleece 
of  the  lamb.  Happily,  however,  excessive  pain  either 
destroys  itself,  or  benumbs  the  human  heart.  This  hap- 
pened Avith  Pani  Emilia.  Pan  Stanislav  noticed  that  the 
predominant  expression  of  her  face  and  eyes  was  a  measure- 
less, rigid  amazement.  As  in  her  eyes  there  were  no  tears, 
so  in  her  mouth  there  were  no  words,  —  merely  a  kind  of 
whisper,  at  once  tragic  and  childish,  showing  that  her 
thought  did  not  take  in  the  misfortune,  but  hovered  around 
the  minutiae  accompanying  it;  she  seized  at  these,  and 
attended  to  them  with  as  much  carefulness  as  if  her  child 
were  alive  yet.  In  the  room,  now  turned  into  a  chamber 
of  mourning,  Litka,  reposing  on  a  satin  cushion  amid 
flowers,  could  want  nothing;  meanwhile  the  heart  of  the 
mother,  grown  childish  from  pain,  turned  continually  to 
this:  what  could  be  lacking  to  Litka?  When  they  tried 
to  remove  her  from  the  body,  she  offered  no  resistance;  she 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  167 

merely  lost  the  remnant  of  her  consciousness,  and  began  to 
groan,  as  if  pained  beyond  endurance. 

Pan  Stanislav  and  her  husband's  brother,  Pan  Hvas- 
tovski,  who  had  come  just  before  the  funeral,  strove  to 
lead  her  away  at  the  moment  Litka  was  covered  with  the 
coffin-lid;  but  when  Pani  Emilia  began  to  call  the  little  one 
by  name,  courage  failed  the  two  men. 

The  procession  moved  at  last  with  numerous  torches, 
and  drew  after  it  a  train  of  carriages,  preceded  by  priests, 
chanting  gloomily,  and  surrounded  by  a  crowd  of  the 
curious,  who  in  moderu  cities  feed  their  eyes  with  the 
sorrow  of  others,  as  in  ancient  times  they  fed  them  in 
the  circus  with  the  blood  of  people. 

Pani  Emilia,  attended  by  her  husband's  brother,  and 
having  Maryuia  at  her  side,  walked  also  behind  the  cara- 
van with  dry  and  expressionless  face.  Her  eyes  saw  only 
one  detail,  and  her  mind  was  occupied  with  that  alone. 
It  had  happened  that  a  lock  of  Litka's  flaxen,  immensely 
abundant  hair  was  outside  the  coffin.  Pani  Emilia  did 
not  take  her  eyes  from  it  the  whole  way,  repeating  again 
and  again,  "O  God,  0  God!  they  have  nailed  down  the 
child's  hair! " 

In  Pan  Stanislav's  sorrow,  weariness,  nervous  disturb- 
ance, resulting  from  sleeplessness,  became  a  feeling  of  such 
unendurable  oppression  that  at  moments  he  was  seized  by 
an  invincible  desire  to  turn  back  when  he  had  gone  half- 
way,—  return  home,  throw  himself  on  a  sofa,  not  think 
of  anything,  not  wish  anything,  not  love  any  one,  not  feel 
anything.  At  the  same  time  this  revulsion  of  self-love 
astounded  him,  made  him  indignant  at  himself:  he  knew 
that  he  would  not  return ;  that  he  would  drain  that  cup  to 
the  bottom ,  that  he  would  go  to  the  end,  not  only  because 
it  would  happen  so,  but  because  sorrow  for  Litka,  and 
attachment  to  her,  would  be  stronger  than  his  selfishness. 
He  felt,  too,  at  that  moment,  that  all  his  other  feelings 
were  contracted  and  withered,  and  that  for  the  whole  world 
he  had  in  his  heart  merely  nothing,  at  least,  at  that 
moment.  For  that  matter  his  thoughts  and  feelings  had 
fallen  into  perfect  disorder,  composed  of  external  impres- 
sions received  very  hastily,  observations  made,  it  was 
unknown  why,  and  mixed  all  together  mechanically  with  a 
feeling  of  sorrow  and  pain.  At  times  he  looked  at  the 
houses  past  which  the  procession  was  moving,  and  he  dis- 
tinguished their  colors.     At  times  some  shop  sign  caught 


168  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

his  eye;  this  he  read,  not  knowing  why  he  did  so.     Then 
again  he  thought  that  the  priests  had  ceased  to  sing,  but 
would  begin  directly ;  and  he  was  waiting  for  that  renewed 
continuance  of  sad  voices,  as  if  in  a  kind  of  dread.     At 
times  he  reasoned  like  a  man  who,  waking  from  sleep, 
wishes  to  give  himself  an  account  of  reality :  "  Those  are 
houses,"  said  he  to  himself;  "those  are  signs;  that  is  the 
odor  of  pitch  from  the  torches ;  and  there  on  the  bier  lies 
Litka;    and  we  are  going  to  the  graveyard."     And  all  at 
once  there  rose  in  him  a  wave  of  sorrow  for  that  sweet, 
beloved  child,  for  that  dear  face  which  had  smiled  so  many 
times  at  him.      He  recalled  her  from  remoter  and  from 
recent  days;    remembered  her  in  Reichenhall,   where  he 
carried  her  when  returning  from  Thumsee;    and  later  at 
Bigiel's,  in  the  country;  and  in  Pani  Emilia's  house,  when 
she  said  that  she  wanted  to  be  a  birch-tree;  and  finally, 
when,  a  few  hours  before  her  death,  she  entreated  Marynia 
to  marry  him.     Pan  Stanislav  did  not  say  directly  to  him- 
self that  Litka  loved  him  as  a  grown  woman  loves,  and 
that,  in  betrothing  him  to  Marynia,  she  had  performed  an 
act  of  sacrifice,  for  the  feelings  of  the  little  girl  were  not 
known,  and  could  not  be  defined  with  precision;   he  felt 
perfectly,   however,   that  there   was   something   like  that 
love  in  her,  and  that  the  sacrifice  took  place,  flowed,  in 
fact,   from  that  deep  and   exceptional   attachment  which 
Litka  had  felt  for  him.     Since  the  loss  of  even  those  who 
are  dearest  is  felt  most  of  all  through  the  personal  loss 
which  we  suffer.  Pan  Stanislav  began  to  repeat  to  himself: 
"That  was  the  one  soul  that  loved  me  truly;   I  have  no 
one  in  the  whole  world  now."     And,  raising  his  eyes  to  the 
coffin,  to  that  tress  of  blond  hair  which  was  waving  in  the 
wind,  he  cried  out  in  spirit  to  Litka  with  all  those  tender 
expressions  with  which  he  had  spoken  to  her  while  in  life. 
Finally,  he  felt  that  tears  were  choking  him,  because  that 
was  a  call  without  echo.     There  is  something  heart-rend- 
ing in  the  indifference  of  the  dead.     When  the  one  who 
reflected  every  word  and  glance  has  become  indifferent, 
when  the  loving  one  is  icy,  the  one  who  was  near  in  daily 
life,  and  next  the  heart,  is  full  of  solemnity,  and  far  away, 
it  avails  not  to  repeat  to  one's  self:  "Death,  death  !"     In 
addition  to  all  pain  connected  with  the  loss,   there  is  a 
harrowing  deception,  as  if  an  injustice  to  the  heart  had 
been  wrought  by  that  lifeless  body,  which  remains  deaf  to 
our  pain  and  entreaty.     Pan  Stanislav  had,  in  this  manner, 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOU..  169 

at  the  bottom  of  his  soul,  a  feeling  that  Litka,  by  taking 
herself  from  him,  and  going  to  the  region  of  death,  had 
done  an  injustice;  and  from  being  one  who  is  near,  she 
had  become  one  remote ;  from  being  a  confidant,  she  had 
become  formal,  far  away,  lofty,  sacred,  and  also  perfectly 
indifferent  to  the  despair  of  her  mother  and  the  deep  loneli- 
ness of  her  nearest  friend.  There  was  much  selfishness  in 
those  feelings  of  Pan  Stauislav;  but  were  it  not  for  that 
selfishness,  which,  first  of  all,  has  its  own  loss  and  loneli- 
ness in  mind,  people,  especially  those  who  believe  in  life 
beyond  the  grave  and  its  happiness,  would  feel  no  grief  for 
the  dead. 

The  procession  passed  out  at  last  from  the  city  to  clearer 
and  more  open  spaces,  and  beyond  the  barrier  advanced 
along  the  cemetery  wall,  which  was  fronted  with  a  garland 
of  beggars,  and  with  garlands  of  immortelles  and  ever- 
greens intended  for  grave  mounds.  The  line  of  priests  in 
white  surplices,  the  funeral  procession  with  torches,  the 
hearse  with  the  coffin,  and  the  people  walking  behind  it, 
halted  before  the  gate;  there  they  removed  Litka.  Pan 
Stanislav,  Bukatski,  Hvastovski,  and  Bigiel  bore  her  to 
the  grave  of  her  father. 

That  silence,  and  the  void  which,  after  each  funeral,  is 
waiting  for  people  at  home  when  they  return  from  fresh 
graves,  seemed  this  time  to  begin  even  at  the  cemetery. 
The  day  was  calm,  pale,  with  here  and  there  the  last 
yellowed  leaves  dropping  from  the  trees  without  a  rustle. 
The  funeral  procession  was  belittled  amid  these  wide,  pale 
spaces,  which,  studded  with  crosses,  seemed  endless, — as 
if,  in  truth,  that  cemetery  opened  into  infinity.  The  black, 
leafiess  trees  Avith  tops  formed  of  slender  branches,  as  it 
were,  vanishing  in  the  light,  gray  and  white  tombstones 
resembling  apparitions,  the  withered  leaves  on  the  ground, 
covering  long  and  straight  alleys,  —  all  these  produced  at 
once  a  genuine  impression  of  Elysian  fields  of  some  sort, 
fields  full  of  deep  rest,  but  full  also  of  deep,  dreamy  melan- 
choly, certain  "  cold  and  sad  places  "  of  which  the  gloomy 
head  of  Caesar  dreamed,  and  to  which  now  was  to  come  one 
more  "animula  vagula." 

The  coffin  stopped  at  last  above  the  open  grave.  The  pierc- 
ing "Requiem  seternam"  was  heard,  and  then  "Aniraa 
ejus."  Pan  Stanislav,  through  the  chaos  of  his  thoughts 
and  impressions,  and  through  the  veil  of  his  own  sorrow, 
saw,  as  in  a  dream,  the  stony  face  and  glassy  eyes  of  Pani 


170  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

Emilia,  the  tears  of  Marynia,  which  irritated  him  at  that 
moment,  the  pale  face  of  Bukatski,  on  whose  features  the 
expression  was  evident  that  his  philosophy  of  life,  having 
no  work  to  do  at  that  graveyard,  had  left  him  and  Litka's 
coffin  at  the  gate.  When  each  threw  a  handful  of  sand  on 
the  coffin-lid,  he  followed  the  example  of  others;  when  they 
lowered  the  coffin  on  straps  into  the  depth  of  the  grave, 
and  closed  the  stone  doors,  something  seized  him  anew  by 
the  throat,  so  that  all  of  which  he  had  been  thinking,  and 
had  learned  hitherto,  was  changed  into  one  nothingness. 
He  repeated  in  his  soul  the  simple  words :  "  Till  we  meet, 
Litus  : "  —  words  which,  when  he  recalled  them  afterwards, 
seemed  to  have  no  relation  to  the  torturing  mental  storm 
within  him.  This  was  the  end.  The  funeral  procession 
began  to  decrease  and  melt  away.  After  a  time  Pan  Stan- 
islav  was  roused  by  the  wind,  which  came  from  afar  from  be- 
tween the  crosses.  He  saw  now  at  the  grave  Paul  Emilia 
with  Marynia,  Pani  Bigiel,  Vaskovski,  and  Litka's  uncle; 
he  said  to  himself  that  he  would  go  out  last,  and  waited, 
repeating  in  his  soul,  "Till  we  meet,  Litus!"  He  was 
thinking  of  death,  and  of  this,  — that  he,  too,  would  come 
to  this  place  of  monuments,  and  that  it  is  an  ocean  into 
which  all  thoughts,  feelings,  and  efforts  are  flowing.  It 
seemed  to  him  then  as  if  he  and  all  who  were  there  at 
the  grave,  or  had  returned  home,  were  on  a  ship  sailing 
straight  to  the  precipice.  Of  life  beyond  the  grave  he  had 
no  thought  at  that  moment. 

Meanwhile  the  short  autumn  twilight  came  on;  the 
crosses  grew  still  less  distinct.  The  old  professor  and 
Pan  Hvastovski  conducted  Pani  Emilia  to  the  cemetery 
gate  without  resistance  on  her  part.  Pan  Stanislav  re- 
peated once  more,  "  Till  we  meet,  dear  child ! "  and  passed 
out. 

Beyond  the  gate  he  thought :  "  It  is  fortunate  that  the 
mother  is  unconscious,  for  what  a  terrible  thought  to  leave 
a  child  there  alone.  The  dead  forsake  U8,  but  we  too  for- 
sake them." 

In  fact,  he  saw  from  a  distance  the  carriage  in  which 
Pani  Emilia  was  riding  away,  and  it  seemed  to  him  that 
such  an  order  of  things  in  the  world  has  in  it  something 
revolting.  Still  when  he  had  sat  down  alone  in  his  droshky, 
he  felt  a  moment  of  selfish  relief,  flowing  from  the  feeling 
that  a  certain  torturing  and  oppressive  act  had  been  ended, 
after  which  would  come  rest.     On  returning  to   his  own 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  171 

clwelliug,  it  appeared  empty,  without  a  ray  of  gladness, 
without  consokition  or  hope  ;  but  wlien  at  tea,  he  stretched 
himself  on  the  sofa,  an  animal  delight  in  repose  after  labor 
took  possession  of  him,  with  a  feeling  of  solace,  and  even 
as  it  were  of  satisfaction,  that  the  funeral  was  over  and 
Litka  was  buried.  He  remembered  then  the  opinion  of  a 
certain  thinker  :  ■'  I  know  no  criminals  ;  I  know  only  honett 
people,  and  they  are  disgusting."  Pan  Stanislav  seemed  to 
himself  repulsive  at  that  moment. 

In  the  evening  he  remembered  that  it  was  needful  t;i 
inquire  about  Pani  Emilia,  whom  Maryniawas  to  take  for 
some  weeks  to  her  own  house.  While  going  out,  he  saw  a 
photograph  of  Litka  on  the  table,  and  kissed  it.  A  quai-ter 
of  an  hour  later  he  rang  the  bell  at  the  Plavitskis'. 

The  servant  told  him  that  Plavitski  had  gone  out,  but 
that  Professor  Vaskovski  and  Father  Hylak  were  there 
beside  Pani  Emilia.  ]\Iarynia  received  him  in  the  draw- 
ing-room ;  her  hair  was  badly  dressed,  her  eyes  red ;  she 
was  almost  ugly.  But  her  former  way  of  meeting  him  had 
changed  entirely,  as  if  she  had  forgotten  all  offences  in 
view  of  more  unhappy  subjects. 

"Emilia  is  with  me,"  whispered  she,  "and  is  in  a  bad 
state  ;  but  it  seems  that  at  least  she  understands  what  is 
said.  Professor  Vaskovski  is  with  her.  He  speaks  with 
such  feeling.     Do  you  wish  to  see  Emilia  absolutely  ?  " 

"  No.  I  have  come  merely  to  inquire  how  she  feels,  and 
shall  go  away  directly." 

"  I  do  not  know  —  she  might  like  to  see  you.  Wait  a 
moment ;  I  will  go  and  say  that  you  are  here.  Litka  loved 
you  so ;  for  that  reason  alone  perhaps  it  would  be  pleasant 
for  Emilia  to  see  you." 

"  Very  well." 

Marynia  went  to  the  next  chamber;  but  evidently  did 
not  begin  conversation  at  once,  for  to  Pan  Stanislav  there 
came  from  the  door,  not  her  voice,  but  that  of  Vaskovski, 
full  of  accents  of  deep  conviction,  and  also,  as  it  were,  of 
effort,  striving  to  break  through  the  armor  of  insensibility 
and  suffering. 

"  It  is  as  if  your  child  had  gone  to  another  room  after 
play,"  said  the  old  professor  ;  "  and  as  if  she  were  to  return 
at  once.  She  will  not  return,  but  you  will  go  to  her.  My 
dear  lady,  look  at  death,  not  from  the  side  of  this  world, 
but  from  the  side  of  God.  The  child  lives  and  is  happy ; 
for,  being  herself  in  eternity,  she  considers  this  separation 


172  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

from  you  as  lasting  one  twinkle  of  an  eye.  Litka  is  liv- 
ing," continued  he,  with  emphasis;  "she  is  living  and 
ha'ijpy.  She  sees  that  you  are  coming  to  her,  and  she 
stretches  forth  her  hands  to  you;  she  knows  that  in  a 
moment  you  will  come,  for  from  God's  point  of  view  life 
and  pain  are  less  than  the  twinkle  of  an  eye,  —  and  then 
eternitv  with  Litka.  Think,  dearest  lady,  with  titka  in 
peace,  in  joy, —  without  disease,  without  death.  Worlds 
will  pass  away,  and  you  will  be  together." 

"It  would  be  well  were  that  certain,"  thought  Pan  Stan- 
islav,  bitterly.  But  after  a  while  he  thought,  "If  I  felt 
that  way,  I  should  have  some  cause  to  go  in ;  otherwise 
not." 

Still  in  spite  of  this  thought  he  went  in,  not  waiting 
even  for  Marynia's  return ;  for  it  seemed  to  him  that  if 
he  had  no  cause,  he  had  a  duty,  and  he  was  not  free  to  be 
cowardly  in  presence  of  the  suifering  of  others.  Selfishness 
is  "cotton  in  the  ears  against  human  groans,"  and  excuses 
itself  in  its  own  eyes  by  saying  that  nothing  can  be  said  to 
great  suifering  to  relieve  it.  Pan  Stanislav  understood 
that  this  was  the  case,  and  was  ashamed  to  withdraw  com- 
fortably instead  of  going  to  meet  the  sorrow  of  a  mother. 
When  he  entered,  he  saw  Pani  Emilia  sitting  on  the  sofa; 
above  the  sofa  was  a  lamp,  and  lower  than  the  lamp  a 
palm,  which  cast  a  shadow  on  that  unhappy  head,  as  if 
gigantic  fingers  were  opened  above  it.  Near  Pani  Emilia 
sat  Vaskovski,  who  was  holding  her  hands  and  looking  into 
her  face.  Pan  Stanislav  took  those  hands  from  him,  and, 
bending  down,  began  to  press  them  to  his  lips  in  silence. 

Pani  Emilia  blinked  a  while,  like  a  person  striving  to 
rise  out  of  sleep;  then  she  cried  suddenly,  with  an  un- 
expected outburst,  — 

"  Remember  how  she  —  " 

And  she  was  borne  away  by  a  measureless  weeping, 
during  which  her  hands  were  clasped,  her  lips  could  not 
catch  breath,  and  her  bosom  was  bursting  from  sobs.  At 
last  strength  failed  her,  and  she  fainted.  When  she  re- 
covered, Marynia  led  her  to  her  own  chamber.  Pan  Stanis- 
lav and  Vaskovski  went  to  the  adjoining  reception-room, 
where  they  were  detained  by  Plavitski,  who  had  come  in 
just  that  moment. 

"  Such  a  sad  person  in  the  house,"  said  he,  —  "  it  spoils 
life  terribly.  A  little  peace  and  freedom  should  be  due  to 
me  ;  but  what  is  to  be  done,  what  is  to  be  done  ?  I  must 
descend»to  the  second  place,  and  I  am  ready." 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  173 

At  the  end  of  half  an  hour  Marynia  came  with  the  an- 
nouncement that  at  her  request  Pani  Emilia  had  gone  to 
bed,  and  was  a  little  calmer.  Pan  Stanislav  and  Vaskovski 
took  leave,  and  went  out. 

They  walked  along  in  a  dense  fog,  which  rose  from  the 
earth  after  a  calm  day,  hiding  the  streets  and  forming  parti- 
colored circles  around  the  lamps.  Both  were  thinking  of 
Litka,  who  was  passing  her  first  night  among  the  dead,  and 
at  a  distance  from  her  mother.  To  Pan  Stanislav  this 
seemed  simply  terrible,  not  for  Litka,  but  for  Pani  Emilia, 
who  had  to  think  of  it.  He  meditated  also  over  the  words 
spoken  by  Vaskovski,  and  said  at  last,  — 

"  I  heard  thy  words.  If  they  gave  her  solace,  it  is  well ; 
but  if  that  were  true,  we  should  make  a  feast  now,  and 
rejoice  that  Litka  is  dead." 

"  But  whence  dost  thou  know  that  we  shall  not  be  happy 
after  death  ?  " 

"  Wilt  thou  tell  me  whence  thou  hast  the  knowledge  that 
we  shall  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  know  ;  I  believe." 

There  was  no  answer  to  this ;  therefore  Pan  Stanislav 
said,  as  if  to  himself,  "  Mercy,  empyrean  light,  eternity, 
meeting ;  but  what  is  there  in  fact  ?  The  corpse  of  a  child 
in  the  grave,  and  a  mother  who  is  wailing  from  pain. 
Grant  that  death  has  produced  thy  faith  at  least ;  yet  it 
brings  doubt,  because  thou  art  grieving  for  the  child.  I  am 
grieving  still  more  ;  and  this  grief  casts  on  me  directly  the 
question,  '  Why  did  she  die  ?  \Vhy  such  cruelty  ?  '  I  know 
that  this  question  is  a  foolish  one,  and  that  milliards  of 
people  have  put  it  to  themselves ;'  but,  if  this  knowledge  is 
to  be  my  solace,  may  thunderbolts  split  it !  I  know,  too, 
that  I  shall  not  lind  an  answer,  and  for  that  very  reason  I 
want  to  gnash  my  teeth  and  curse.  I  do  not  understand, 
and  I  rebel ;  that  is  all.  That  is  the  whole  result,  which 
thou  canst  not  recognize  as  the  one  sought  for." 

Vaskovski  answered  also,  as  if  speaking  to  himself, 
"  Christ  rose  from  the  dead,  for  He  was  God ;  but  He  rose 
as  man,  and  He  passed  through  death.  How  can  I,  poor 
worm,  do  otherwise  than  magnify  the  Divine  Will  and  Wis- 
dom in  death  ?  " 

To  this  Pan  Stanislav  answered,  — 

"  It  is  impossible  to  talk  with  thee  !  " 

"It  is  slippery,"  answered  Vaskovski;  "give  me  thy 
arm."    And,  taking  Pan  Stanislav  by  the  arm,  he  leaned  on 


174  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

him,  and  said,  "  My  dear  friend,  thou  hast  an  honest  and  a 
loving  heapt;  thou  didst  love  that  little  girl  greatly,  thou 
wert  ready  to  do  much  for  her.  Do  this  one  thing  now, — 
whether  thou  believest  or  not,  —  say  for  her,  'Eternal 
rest ! '  If  thou  think  that  that  will  be  no  good  to  her,  say 
to  thyself,  '  I  can  do  no  more,  but  I  will  do  that.'  " 

"  Give  me  peace !  "  answered  Pan  Stanislav. 

"  That  may  not  be  needful  to  her,  but  thy  remembrance 
of  her  will  be  dear ;  she  will  be  grateful,  and  will  obtain 
the  grace  of  God  for  thee." 

Pan  Stanislav  remembered  how  Vaskovski,  at  news  of 
Litka's  last  attack,  said  that  the  life  of  the  child  could  not 
be  purposeless,  and  that  if  she  had  to  die  she  was  pre- 
destined to  do  something  before  deatli ;  and  now  he  wished 
to  attack  Vaskovski  on  this  point,  when  the  thought  flashed 
on  him  that,  before  her  death,  Litka  had  united  him  with 
Marynia  ;  and  it  occurred  to  him  that  perhaps  she  had  lived 
for  this  very  purpose.  But  at  that  moment  he  rebelled 
against  the  thought.  Anger  at  Marynia  seized  him;  he 
was  full  of  stubbornness,  and  almost  contempt. 

"  I  do  not  want  jNIarynia  at  such  a  price  ! "  thought  he, 
gritting  his  teeth ;  "  I  do  not  !  I  have  suffered  enough 
through  her.     I  would  give  ten  such  for  one  Litka." 

Meanwhile  Vaskovski,  trotting  near  him,  said,  — 

''Nothing  is  to  be  seen  at  a  step's  distance,  and  the  stones 
are  slippery  from  fog.  AVithout  thee  I  should  have  fallen 
long  ago." 

Pan  Stanislav  recovered  himself,  and  answered,  — 

"  Whoso  walks  on  the  earth,  professor,  must  look  down, 
not  up." 

"  Thou  hast  good  legs,  my  dear  friend." 

"And  eyes  which  see  clearly,  even  in  a  fog  like  this 
which  surrounds  us.  And  it  is  needful,  for  we  all  live  in  a 
fog,  and  deuce  knows  what  is  beyond  it.  All  that  thou 
sayest  makes  on  me  such  an  impression  as  the  words  of  a 
man  who  would  break  dry  twigs,  throw  them  into  a  torrent, 
and  say.  Flowers  will  come  from  these.  Kottenness  will 
come,  nothing  more.  From  me,  too,  this  torrent  has  torn 
away  something  from  which  I  am  to  think  that  a  flower 
will  rise  ?     Folly !     But  here  is  thy  gate.     Good-night  !  " 

And  they  separated.  Pan  Stanislav  returned  to  his  own 
house  barely  alive,  he  was  so  weary ;  and,  when  he  had  lain 
down  in  bed,  he  began  to  torture  himself  with  thoughts  fur- 
ther continued,  or  rather  with   visions.     To   begin    with, 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  175 

before  his  eyes  appeared  the  figure  of  Pani  Emilia,  power- 
less from  pain;  she  was  sitting  in  Marynia's  parlor,  under 
the  palm-leaf,  which  was  hanging  over  her  head  like  an 
immense  ill-omened  hand,  with  outspread,  grasping  fingers, 
and  it  cast  a  shadow  on  her  face.  "  I  might  philosophize 
over  that  till  morning,"  muttered  he.  "  Everything  out  of 
which  life  is  constructed  is  a  hand  like  that,  from  which  a 
shadow  falls,  —  nothing  more.  But  if  there  were  a  little 
mercy  besides,  the  child  would  not  have  died;  but  with 
what  Vaskovski  says,  you  could  n't  keep  life  in  a  sparrow." 

Here  he  remembered,  however,  that  Vaskovski  not  only 
spoke  of  death,  but  begged  him  also  to  say  "eternal  rest" 
for  Litka.  Pan  Stauislav  began  now  to  struggle  with  him- 
self. His  lips  were  closed  through  lack  of  a  deep  faith 
that  Litka  might  hear  his  "eternal  rest,"  and  that  it  might 
be  of  good  to  her.  He  felt,  besides,  a  kind  of  shame  to 
speak  words  which  did  not  flow  from  the  depth  of  his  con- 
viction, and  felt  also  the  same  kind  of  shame  not  to  say  the 
"  eternal  rest."  "  For,  finally,  what  do  I  know  ?  "  thought 
he.  "Nothing.  Around  is  fog  and  fog.  Likely  nothing 
will  come  to  her  from  that ;  but,  let  happen  what  may,  that 
is  in  truth  the  only  thing  that  I  can  do  now  for  my  kitten, 
—  for  that  dear  child,  —  who  was  mindful  of  me  on  the 
night  that  she  died." 

And  he  hesitated  for  a  time  yet ;  at  last  he  knelt  and 
said,  "eternal  rest."  It  did  not  bring  him,  however,  any 
solace,  for  it  roused  only  the  more  sorrow  for  Litka,  and 
also  anger  at  Vaskovski,  because  he  had  pushed  him  into  a 
position  in  which  he  had  either  to  fall  into  contradiction 
with  himself  or  be,  as  it  were,  a  traitor  to  Litka.  He  felt, 
finally,  that  he  had  had  enough  of  that  kind  of  torment,  and 
he  determined  to  go  early  in  the  morning  to  his  office  and 
occupy  himself  with  Bigiel  on  the  first  commercial  affair 
that  presented  itself,  if  it  were  only  to  tear  away  his 
thought  from  the  painful,  vicious  circle  in  which  for  some 
days  he  had  been  turning. 

But  in  the  morning  Bigiel  anticipated  him,  and  came  to 
his  house  ;  maybe,  too,  with  the  intent  to  occupy  him.  Pan 
Stanislav  threw  himself  with  a  certain  interest  into  the 
examination  of  current  business;  but  he  and  Bigiel  were 
not  long  occupied,  for  an  hour  later  Bukatski  came  to  say 
farewell  to  them. 

"I  am  going  to  Italy  to-day,"  said  he,  "and  God  knows 
when  I  shall  return.    I  wish  to  say  to  you  both,  Be  in  good 


176  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

Ileal th.  The  death  of  that  child  touched  me  more  than  I 
thought  it  would." 

"Art  thou  going  far?" 

"  Oh,  there  would  be  much  talk  in  the  answer.  With  us, 
this  is  how  it  happens:  Be  a  Buddhist,  or  whatever  may 
please  thee,  the  kernel  of  the  question  is  this :  one  believes 
a  little,  trusts  a  little  in  some  sort  of  mercy,  and  thus  lives. 
Meanwhile,  what  happens  ?  Reality  slaps  us  daily  in  the 
face,  and  brings  us  into  mental  agony  and  anguish,  into 
moral  straits.  With  us,  one  is  always  loving  somebody,  or 
is  tormented  with  somebod3''s  misfortune ;  but  I  do  not 
want  this.     It  tortures  me." 

"How  will  the  Italians  help  thee?" 

"How  will  they  help  me?  They  will,  for  in  Italy  I  have 
the  sun,  which  here  I  have  not;  1  have  art,  which  here  I 
have  not,  and  I  feel  for  it  a  weakness;  I  have  chianti,^ 
which  does  good  to  the  catarrh  of  my  stomach;  and  finally, 
I  have  people  for  Avhom  I  care  nothing  and  nothing,  and 
who  may  die  for  themselves  in  hundreds  without  causing 
me  any  bitterness. 

"  I  shall  look  at  pictures,  buy  what  I  need,  nurse  my 
rheumatism,  my  headache;  and  I  shall  be  for  myself  a 
more  or  less  elegant,  a  more  or  less  well  nourished,  a  more 
or  less  healthy  animal, — which,  believe  me,  is  still  the 
kind  and  condition  of  life  most  desired.  Here  I  cannot 
be  that  beast  which,  from  my  soul,  I  wish  to  be." 

"Thou  art  right,  Bukatski.  We,  as  thou  seest,  are  sit- 
ting with  our  accounts,  also  somewhat  for  this,  — to  become 
more  idiotic,  and  not  think  of  aught  else.  When  we 
acquire  such  a  fortune  as  thou  hast,  I  don't  know  how  it 
is  with  Bigiel,  but  I  will  follow  in  thy  steps." 

"Then  till  we  see  each  other  again  in  time  and  space ! " 
said  Bukatski. 

A  while  after  his  departure,  Pan  Stanislav  said,  — 

"He  is  right.  How  happy  I  should  be,  for  example, 
if  I  had  not  become  attached  to  that  child  and  Pani  Emilia! 
In  this  respect  we  are  incurable,  and  we  spoil  our  lives 
voluntarily.  He  is  right.  In  this  country  one  is  always 
loving  some  person  or  something;  it  is  an  inherited  disease. 
Eternal  romanticism,  eternal  sentimentalism, — and  eter- 
nally pins  in  the  heart." 

"Old  Plavitski  bows  to  thee,"  said  Bigiel.  "That  man 
loves  nobody  but  himself." 

^  An  Italian  wine. 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  177 

"In  reality,  this  is  perhaps  true;  but  he  lacks  the  courage 
to  tell  himself  that  that  is  permissible  and  necessary.  Nay, 
what  is  more,  he  is  convinced  that  it  is  needful  to  act 
otherwise;  and  through  this  he  is  in  continual  slavery. 
Here,  though  a  man  have  a  nature  like  Plavitski's,  he 
must  feign  even  to  himself  that  he  loves  some  one  or 
something." 

"  But  will  you  visit  Pani  Emilia  to-day?  "  asked  Bigiel. 

"Of  course!  If  I  were  to  say,  for  example,  'I  have  the 
malaria,'  I  should  not  cure  myself  by  s'aying  so." 

And,  in  fact,  not  only  was  he  at  Pani  Emilia's  that  day, 
but  he  was  there  twice;  for  at  his  first  visit  he  did  not  find 
the  ladies  at  home.  To  the  question  where  his  daughter 
was,  Plavitski  answered,  with  due  pathos  and  resignation, 
"I  have  no  daughter  now."  Pan  Stanislav,  not  wishing  to 
tell  him  fables,  for  which  he  felt  a  sudden  desire,  went 
away,  and  returned  only  in  the  evening. 

This  time  Marynia  herself  received  him,  and  informed 
him  that  Pani  Emilia  had  slept  for  the  first  time  since 
Litka's  funeral.  While  saying  this,  she  left  her  hand  a 
certain  time  in  his.  Pan  Stanislav,  in  spite  of  all  the  dis- 
order in  which  his  thoughts  were,  could  not  avoid  noticing 
this ;  and,  when  he  looked  at  last  with  an  inquiring  glance 
into  her  eyes,  he  discovered  that  the  young  lady's  cheeks 
flushed  deeply.     They  sat  down,  and  began  to  converse. 

"We  were  at  Povanzki,"  said  Marynia,  "and  I  promised 
Emilia  to  go  there  with  her  every  day." 

"  But  is  it  well  for  her  to  remember  the  child  so  every 
day,  and  open  her  wounds?" 

"But  are  they  healed?"  answered  Marynia,  "or  is  it 
possible  to  say  to  her,  *  Do  not  go '  ?  I  thought  myself 
that  it  would  not  be  well,  but  grew  convinced  of  the  con- 
trary. At  the  graveyard  she  wept  much,  but  was  the 
better  for  it.  On  the  way  home  she  remembered  what 
Professor  Vaskovski  had  told  her,  and  the  thought  is  for 
her  the  only  consolation,  — the  only." 

"  Let  her  have  even  such  a  one,"  answered  Pan  Stanislav. 

"  You  see,  I  did  not  dare  to  mention  Litka  at  first,  but 
she  speaks  of  her  all  the  time.  Do  not  fear  to  speak  to 
her  of  the  child,  for  it  gives  her  evident  solace." 

Here  the  young  lady  continued  in  a  lower,  and,  as  it 
were,  an  uncertain  voice,  "  She  reproaches  herself  continu- 
ally for  having  listened  to  the  assurances  of  the  doctor  the 
last  night,  and  gone  to  sleep;  she  is  sorry  for  those  last 

12 


178  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

moments,  which  she  might  have  passed  with  Litka,  and 
that  thought  tortures  her.  To-day,  wheu  we  were  return- 
in  f^  from  the  graveyard,  she  asked  about  the  smallest 
details.  She  asked  how  the  child  looked,  how  long  she 
slept,  whether  she  took  medicine,  what  she  said,  whether  ' 
she  spoke  to  us;  then  she  implored  me  to  remember  every- 
thing, and  not  omit  a  single  word." 

"And  you  did  not  omit  anything?" 

"Ko." 

"How  did  she  receive  it?" 

"She  cried  very,  very  much." 

Both  grew  silent,  and  were  silent  rather  long;  ihen 
Marynia  said,  — 

"  i  will  go  and  see  what  is  happening  to  her." 

After  a  while  she  returned. 

"  She  is  sleeping,"  said  the  young  lady.  "Praise  be  to 
God ! " 

Indeed,  Pan  Stanislav  did  not  see  Pani  Emilia  that  even- 
ing; she  had  fallen  into  a  kind  of  lethargic  slumber.  At 
parting,  Marynia  pressed  his  hand  again  long  and  vigor- 
ously, and  inquired  almost  with  submission, — 

"  Yoii  do  not  take  it  ill  of  me  that  I  repeated  to  Pani 
Emilia  Litka's  last  wish?" 

"At  such  moments,"  answered  Pan  Stanislav,  "I  cannot 
think  of  myself:  for  me  it  is  a  qiaestion  only  of  Pani 
Emilia;  and  if  your  words  caused  her  solace,  I  thank  you 
for  them." 

"Till  to-morrow,  then?" 

"Till  to-morrow." 

Pan  Stanislav  took  farewell,  and  went  out.  While 
descending  the  steps,  he  thought,  — 

"She  considers  herself  my  betrothed." 

And  he  was  not  mistaken;  Marynia  looked  on  him  as 
her  betrothed.  She  had  never  been  indifferent  to  him;  on 
the  contrary,  the  greatness  of  his  offence  had  been  for  her 
the  measure  of  that  uncommon  interest  which  he  had 
roused  in  her.  And  though,  during  Litka's  illness  and 
funeral,  he  could  discover  in  himself  unfathomable  stores 
of  selHshness,  he  seemed  to  her  so  good  that  she  was 
simply  unable  to  compare  him  with  any  one.  Litka's 
words  did  the  rest.  In  real  truth,  her  heart  desired  love 
first  of  all;  and  now,  since  before  Litka's  death  she  had 
made  her  a  promise,  since  she  had  bound  herself  to  love 
and  to  marry,  it  seemed  to  her  that  even  if  she  had  not 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  179 

loved,  it  was  her  duty  to  command  herself,  and  that  she 
was  not  free  at  present  not  to  love.  Pan  Stanislav  had 
entered  the  sphere  of  her  duty;  she  belonged  to  those 
straightforward,  womanly  natures,  not  at  all  rare  even 
now,  for  whom  life  and  duty  mean  one  and  the  same 
thing,  and  who  for  this  reason  bring  good-will  to  the  ful- 
liLnent  of  duty,  and  not  only  good,  but  persistent  will. 

Such  a  will  brings  with  it  love,  which  lights  like  the 
sun,  warms  like  its  heat,  and  cherishes  like  the  blue,  mild 
sky.  In  this  way  life  does  not  become  a  dry,  thorny 
path,  which  pricks,  but  a  flowery  one,  which  blooms  and 
delights.  This  country  maiden,  straightforward  in  thought, 
and  at  once  simple  and  delicate  in  feelings,  possessed  that 
capacity  for  life  and  happiness  in  the  highest  degree.  So, 
when  Pan  Stanislav  had  gone,  she,  in  thinking  about  him, 
did  not  name  him  in  her  mind  otherwise  than  "Pan  Stas," 
for  he  had  indeed  become  her  "Pan  Stas." 

Pan  Stanislav,  on  his  part,  when  lying  down  to  sleep, 
repeated  to  himself  somewhat  mechanically,  "She  con- 
siders herself  my  betrothed." 

Litka's  death,  and  the  events  of  the  last  days,  had  pushed 
Marynia,  not  only  in  his  thoughts,  but  in  his  heart,  to 
more  remote,  and  even  very  remote  places.  Now  he  began 
to  think  of  her  again,  and  at  the  same  time  of  his  future. 
All  at  once  he  beheld,  as  it  were,  a  cloud  of  countless 
questions,  to  which,  at  that  moment,  at  least,  he  had  no 
answer.  But  he  felt  fear  in  presence  of  them;  he  felt  that 
he  lacked  strength  and  willingness  to  undertake  this  labor. 
Again  he  began  to  live  with  the  former  life;  again  to  fall 
into  that  sentimental,  vicious  circle;  again  to  disquiet 
himself;  again  to  make  efforts,  and  struggle  over  things 
which  bring  only  bitterness,  — to  struggle  with  himself  over 
questions  of  feeling.  Would  it  not  be  better  to  labor  with 
Bigiel  on  accounts,  — make  money,  —  so  as  to  go  sometime, 
like  Bukatski,  to  Italy,  or  some  other  place  where  there  is 
sun,  art,  wine  good  for  the  stomach,  and,  above  all,  people 
to  whom  one  is  indifferent,  Avhose  happiness  will  not  en- 
liven the  heart  of  a  stranger,  but  in  return  whose  death 
or  misfortune  will  not  press  a  single  tear  from  him. 


180  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

During  all  the  mental  struggles  through  which  Pan 
Stanislav  had  passed,  the  interests  of  his  commercial  house 
were  developed  favorably.  Thanks  to  Bigiel's  sound  judg- 
ment, diligence,  and  care,  current  business  was  transacted 
with  a  uniform  thoroughness  which  removed  every  chance 
of  dissatisfaction  or  complaint  from  the  patrons  of  the 
house.  The  house  gained  reputation  every  day,  extended 
its  activity  slowly  and  regularly,  and  was  growing  rich. 
Pan  Stanislav,  on  his  part,  labored,  not  indeed  with  such 
mental  peace  as  hitherto,  but  no  less  than  Bigiel.  He 
passed  the  morning  hours  daily  in  the  office;  and  the 
greater  his  mental  vexation,  the  deeper  his  misunderstand- 
ing with  Marynia  since  her  coming  to  Warsaw,  the  more 
earnest  was  his  labor.  This  labor,  often  difficult,  and  at 
times  requiring  even  much  intense  thought,  but  uncon- 
nected with  the  question  which  pained  him,  and  incapable 
of  giving  any  internal  solace,  became,  at  last,  a  kind  of 
haven,  in  which  be  hid  from  the  storm.  Pan  Stanislav 
began  to  love  it.  "Here,  at  least,  I  know  what  1  am 
doing,  and  whither  I  am  tending;  here  everything  is  very 
clear.  If  T  do  not  find  happiness,  I  shall  find  at  least 
that  enlargement  of  life,  that  freedom,  which  money  gives; 
and  all  the  better  for  me  if  I  succeed  in  stopping  at  that." 
Recent  events  had  merely  confirmed  him  in  those  thoughts ; 
in  fact,  nothing  but  suffering  had  come  to  him  from  his 
feelings.  That  sowing  had  yielded  a  bitter  harvest,  while 
the  only  successes  which  he  had  known,  and  which  in  every 
case  strengthen  and  defend  one  against  misfortune,  were 
given  by  that  mercantile  house.  Pan  Stanislav  thought 
with  a  certain  surprise  that  this  was  true ;  but  it  was  not. 
He  himself  felt  the  narrowness  of  that  satisfaction  which 
the  house  could  give;  but  he  said  to  himself  at  the  same 
time,  "Since  it  cannot  be  otherwise,  this  must  be  accepted; 
and  it  is  safer  to  stop  here,  for  it  is  better  to  be  only  a 
merchant,  who  succeeds,  than  a  dreamer,  who  fails  in 
everything."  Since  Litka's  death,  then,  he  resolved  all 
the  more  to  stifle  in  himself  those  impulses  to  which  reality 
did  not  answer,  and  which  had  brought  him  nothing  but 
regrets.      Evidently  Bigiel  was  pleased  with   a  state  of 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  181 

niind  in  his  partner  which  could  bring  only  profit  to  the 

liouse. 

Still  Pan  Stanislav  could  not  grow  wholly  indifferent  in 
a  few  weeks  to  all  that  with  which,  on  a  time,  his  heart 
had  been  connected.  Hence  he  went  sometimes  to  visit 
Litka,  whose  gravestone  was  covered  in  the  morning  witli 
white  winter  frost.  Twice  he  met  Pani  Emilia  and 
Marynia  in  the  cemetery.  Once  he  attended  them  home 
to  the  city,  and  Pani  Emilia  thanked  him  for  remembering 
the  little  girl.  Pan  Stanislav  noticed  that  she  did  this 
with  evident  calmness;  he  understood  the  cause  of  this 
calmness  when,  at  parting,  she  said  to  him, — 

"I  keep  always  in  mind  now  that  for  her  separation 
from  me  is  as  short  as  one  twinkle  of  an  eye;  and  you 
know  not  what  comfort  it  is  to  me  that  at  least  she  is  not 
yearning." 

"  Well,  what  I  know  not,  I  know  not,"  said  Pan  Stanislav, 
in  his  soul.  Still  the  deep  conviction  of  Pani  Emilia's 
speech  struck  him.  "If  these  are  illusions,"  thought  he, 
"they  are  really  life-giving,  since  they  are  able  to  draw 
forth  juices  for  life  from  the  dungeon  of  the  grave." 

Marynia  asserted,  besides,  in  her  first  conversation  with 
Pan  Stanislav,  that  Pani  Emilia  lived  only  through  that 
thought,  which  alone  softened  her  grief.  For  whole  days 
she  mentioned  nothing  else,  and  said,  with  such  persist- 
ence, that  from  God's  poiut  of  view  death  is  separation  for 
one  twinkle  of  an  eye,  that  she  began  to  alarm  Marynia. 

•'She  talks,  too,  of  Litka,"  said  Marynia,  in  conclusion, 
"as  if  the  child  had  not  died,  and  as  if  she  should  see  her 
to-morrow." 

"That  is  happy,"  answered  Pan  Stanislav.  "Vaskovski 
rendered  tangible  service;  such  a  nail  in  the  head  gives 
no  pain." 

"Still,  she  is  right,  for  it  is  so." 

"I  will  not  contradict  you." 

Marynia  was  alarmed,  it  is  true,  by  the  persistence  with 
which  Pani  Emilia  returned  to  one  thought;  but  on  the 
other  hand  she  herself  did  not  look  on  death  otherwise. 
Hence  that  tinge  of  scepticism,  evident  in  Pan  Stanislav's 
words,  touched  her  a  little,  and  pained  her;  but,  not  wish- 
ing to  let  this  be  evident,  she  changed  the  conversation. 

"I  gave  directions  to  enlarge  Litka's  photograph,"  said 
she.  "Yesterday  they  brought  me  three  copies;  one  I  will 
give  Emilia.     I  feared  at  first  that  it  would  excite  her  too 


182  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

much,  but  now  I  see  that  I  may  give  itj  nay,  more,  it  will 
be  very  dear  to  her." 

She  rose  then,  and  went  to  a  bookcase  on  which  were 
some  photographs  in  a  wrapper;  these  she  took,  and,  sit- 
ting at  Pan  Stanislav's  side  before  a  small  table,  opened 
them. 

"  Emilia  told  me  of  a  certain  talk  which  you  had  with 
Litka  a  short  time  before  her  death,  when  the  child  wished 
you  three  to  be  birches  growing  near  one  another.  Do  you 
remember  that  talk?" 

"I  do.  Litka  wondered  that  trees  live  so  long;  she 
thought  awhile  what  kind  of  tree  she  would  like  to  be,  and 
the  birch  pleased  her  most." 

"  True ;  and  you  said  that  you  would  like  to  grow  near 
by,  therefore,  around  these  photographs  I  wish  to  paint 
birches  on  a  passe-partout.  Here  I  have  begun,  you 
see,  but  I  have  no  great  success.  I  cannot  paint  from 
memory." 

Then  she  took  one  of  the  photographs,  and  showed  Pan 
Stanislav  the  birches  painted  in  water-colors;  but  since 
she  was  a  little  near-sighted,  she  bent  over  her  work,  so 
that  her  temple  for  one  moment  was  near  Pan  Stanislav's 
face.  She  was  no  longer  that  Marynia  of  whom  he  had 
dreamed  when  returning  evenings  from  Pani  Emilia's,  and 
who  at  that  time  had  filled  his  whole  soul  for  him.  That 
period  had  passed:  his  thoughts  had  gone  in  another  direc- 
tion ;  but  Marynia  had  not  ceased  to  be  that  type  of  woman 
which  produced  on  his  masculine  nerves  an  impression 
exceptionally  vivid;  and  now,  when  her  temple  almost 
touched  his  own,  when,  with  one  glance  of  the  eye,  he  took 
in  her  face,  her  cheeks  slightly  colored,  and  her  form  bent 
over  the  picture,  he  felt  the  old  attraction  with  its  former 
intensity,  and  the  quick  blood  sent  equally  quick  thoughts 
to  his  brain.  "  Were  I  to  kiss  her  eyes  and  mouth  now," 
thought  he,  "  I  am  curious  to  know  what  she  would  do ; " 
and  in  a  twinkle  the  desire  seized  him  to  do  so,  even  were 
he  to  offend  Marynia  mortally.  In  return  for  long  rejec- 
tion, for  so  much  fear  and  suffering,  he  would  like  such 
a  moment  of  recompense,  and  of  revenge,  perhaps,  with 
it.  Meanwhile,  Marynia,  while  examining  the  painting, 
continued,  — 

"This  seems  worse  to-day  than  yesterday;  unfortunately 
trees  have  no  leaves  now,  and  I  cannot  find  a  model." 

"The  group  is  not  bad  at  all,"  said  Pan  Stanislav;  "but 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  183 

if  these  trees  are  to  represent  Pani  Emilia,  Litka,  and  me, 
why  have  you  painted  four  birches?" 

"The  fourth  represents  me,"  said  Marynia,  with  a  cer- 
tain timidity;  "I,  too,  have  a  wish  sometimes  to  grow 
with  you." 

Pan  Stanislav  looked  at  her  quickly;  and  she,  wrapping 
the  photographs  up  again,  said,  as  it  were,  hurriedly,  — 

"So  many  things  are  connected  in  my  mind  with  the 
memory  of  that  child.  During  her  last  days  I  was  with 
her  and  Emilia  almost  continually.  At  present  Emilia  is 
one  of  the  nearest  persons  on  earth  to  me.  I  belong  to 
them  as  well  as  you  do;  I  know  not  clearly  how  to  explain 
this.  There  were  four  of  us,  and  now  there  are  three, 
bound  together  by  Litka,  for  she  bound  us.  When  I  think 
of  her  now,  I  think  also  of  Emilia  and  of  you.  This  is 
why  I  decided  to  paint  the  four  birches ;  and  you  see  there 
are  three  photographs,  —  one  for  Emilia,  one  for  me,  and 
one  for  you." 

"I  thank  you,"  said  Pan  Stanislav,  extending  his  hand 
to  her.  Marynia  returned  the  pressure  very  cordially,  and 
said, — 

"  For  the  sake  of  her  memory,  too,  we  should  forget  all 
our  former  resentments." 

"This  has  happened  already,"  answered  Pan  Stanislav; 
"  and  as  for  me,  I  wish  that  it  had  happened  long  before 
Litka's  death." 

"  My  fault  began  then ;  for  this  I  beg  forgiveness,"  and 
she  extended  her  hand  to  him. 

Pan  Stanislav  hesitated  awhile  whether  to  raise  it  to  his 
lips  ;  but  he  did  not  raise  it,  he  only  said,  — 

"  Now  there  is  agreement." 

"And  friendship  ?  "  asked  Marynia. 

"  And  friendship." 

In  her  eyes  a  deep,  quiet  joy  was  reflected,  which 
enlivened  her  whole  face  with  a  mild  radiance.  There 
was  in  her  at  the  moment  so  much  kindness  and  trustful- 
ness that  she  reminded  Pan  Stanislav  of  that  first  Marynia 
whom  he  had  seen  at  Kremen  when  she  was  sitting  on  the 
garden  veranda  in  the  rays  of  the  setting  sun.  But  since 
Litka's  death  he  had  been  in  such  a  frame  of  mind  that  he 
considered  remembrances  like  that  as  unworthy  of  him  ; 
hence  he  rose  and  began  to  take  leave. 

"Will  you  not  remain  the  whole  evening?  asked 
Marynia. 


184  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

"  Xo,  I  must  return." 

''I  will  tell  Emilia  that  you  are  going,"  said  she,  ap- 
proaching the  door  of  the  adjoining  room. 

"  She  is  either  thinking  of  Ijitka  at  present,  or  is  praying  ; 
otherwise  she  would  have  come  of  herself.  Better  not 
interrupt  her;   I  will  come  to-morrow  in  any  case." 

Marynia  approached  him,  and,  looking  into  his  eyes,  said 
with  great  cordiality,  "  To-morrow  and  every  day.  Is  it 
not  true  ?     Remember  that  you  are  '  Pan  Stas  '  for  us  now." 

Since  Litka's  death  jSIarynia  had  named  him  thus  for  the 
second  time,  so  in  going  home  he  thought,  "  Her  relations  to 
me  are  changed  thoroughly.  She  feels  herself  simply  as 
belonging  to  me,  for  she  bound  herself  to  that  by  the 
promise  given  the  dying  child;  she  is  ready  even  to  fall 
in  love  with  me,  and  will  not  permit  herself  not  to  love. 
With  us  there  are  such  women  by  the  dozen."  And  all  at 
once  he  fell  into  anger. 

"  I  know  those  lish  natures  with  cold  hearts,  but  senti- 
mental heads  tilled  with  so-called  principles,  — everything 
for  principle,  everything  for  duty,  nothing  spontaneous  in  the 
heart.  I  might  sigh  out  my  last  breath  at  her  feet  and  gain 
nothing  ;  but  when  duty  commands  her  to  love  me,  she  will 
love  even  really." 

Evidently  Pan  Stanislav  in  his  wanderings  abroad  had 
grown  used  to  another  kind  of  women,  or  at  least  he  had 
read  of  them  in  books.  But  since  with  all  this  he  had  a 
little  sound  judgment  too,  that  judgment  began  to  speak 
thus  to  him,  — 

"  Listen,  Polanyetski,"  it  said.  "  These  are  exceptional 
natures  because  they  are  uncommonly  reliable :  on  them  one 
may  build  ;  on  them  a  life  may  be  founded.  Art  thou  mad  ? 
With  thee  it  was  a  question  of  finding  a  wife,  not  an  ephem- 
eral love  affair." 

But  Pan  Stanislav  did  not  cease  to  resist,  and  he  answered 
his  judgment,  "If  I  am  to  be  loved,  I  want  to  be  loved  for 
my  own  sake." 

Judgment  tried  once  more  to  explain  that  it  was  all  one 
how  love  began  ;  since  later  on  he  could  be  loved  only  for 
his  own  sake,  that  in  the  present  case,  after  his  recent  efforts 
and  vexations,  it  was  almost  miraculous,  almost  providential, 
that  something  natural  had  intervened  in  a  way  to  break 
resistance  immediately ;  but  Pan  Stanislav  did  not  cease 
trom  being  furious.  At  last  judgment  was  strengthened  by 
tnat  attraction  and  pleasure  which  he  found  in  Marynia, 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  185 

by  virtue  of  which  he  saw  iu  her  more  charms  than  in  any 
other  woman ;  this  attraction  spoke  in  its  turn,  — 

"  I  do  not  know  if  thou  love  her,  and  I  care  not ;  but 
to-day,  when  her  arm  and  face  approached  thee,  thou  wert 
near  jumping  out  of  thy  skin.  Why  is  it  that  such  a  shiver 
does  not  pass  through  thee  when  thou  art  near  another  ? 
Think  what  a  diiference  in  that." 

But  to  everything  Pan  Stanislav  answered :  "  A  fish,  a 
duty-bound  fish."  And  again  the  thought  came  to  him, 
"  Catch  her,  if  thou  prefer  that  to  any  other  kind.  People 
marry ;  and  for  thee,  it  is  time.  What  more  dost  thou  want, 
is  it  a  kind  of  love  which  thou  wc.uldst  be  the  first  to  laugh 
into  ridicule  ?  Thy  love  has  died  out.  Suppose  it  has  ;  but 
the  attraction  remains,  and  the  conviction,  too,  that  this 
woman  is  reliable  and  honest." 

"True,"  thought  he  further,  "but  from  love,  whether 
stupid  or  wise,  comes  choice,  and  have  I  that  at  present  ? 
No,  for  I  hesitate,  while  formerly  I  did  not  hesitate  ;  second, 
I  ought  to  decide  which  is  better,  —  Panna  Plavitski,  or  debit 
and  credit  in  the  house  of  Bigiel  and  Polanyetski.  Money 
gives  power  and  freedom  ;  the  best  use  is  made  of  freedom 
when  a  man  carries  no  one  in  his  heart  or  on  his  shoulders." 
Thus  meditating,  he  reached  home,  and  lay  down  to  sleep. 
During  the  night  he  dreamed  of  birches  on  sand  hills,  calm 
blue  eyes,  and  a  forehead  shaded  with  dark  hair,  from  which 
warmth  was  beating. 


186  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 


CHAPTER  XXL 

Some  mornings  later,  before  Pan  Stanislav  had  gone  to 
his  office,  Mashko  appeared, 

'•  I  come  to  thee  on  two  affairs,"  said  he,  "  but  I  will 
begin  with  money,  so  as  to  leave  thee  freedom  of  action ; 
shall  I,  or  not?" 

"  My  dear  friend,  I  attend  to  money  questions  in  my  office, 
so  begin  with  the  other." 

"  The  money  matter  is  not  a  question  of  thy  house,  but 
a  private  one ;  for  this  reason  I  prefer  to  speak  of  it 
privately.  I  am  going  to  marry,  as  thou  knowest ;  I  need 
money.  I  have  to  make  payments  as  numerous  as  the  hairs 
on  my  head,  and  the  wherewithal  does  not  correspond. 
The  term  is  near  to  pay  the  first  instalment  of  my  debt  to 
thee  for  the  claim  on  Kremen  ;  canst  thou  extend  the  time 
another  quarter  ?  " 

"  I  will  be  frank,"  replied  Pan  Stanislav ;  "  I  can,  but  I 
am  unwilling  to  do  so." 

'•  Well,  I  will  be  equally  sincere,  and  ask  what  thou  wilt 
do  in  case  I  fail  to  pay." 

"  The  like  happens  in  the  world,"  answered  Pan  Stanislav; 
"but  this  time  thou  art  looking  on  me  as  simpler  than  I 
am,  for  I  know  that  thou  wilt  pay." 
"Whence  is  that  certainty?" 

"Thou  art  going  to  marry,  and  marry  a  fortune;  how 
expose  thyself  to  the  evil  fame  of  bankruptcy?  Thou  wilt 
squeeze  money  from  under  the  earth,  perhaps,  but  thou 
wilt  pay." 

"Even  Solomon  could  not  pour  out  of  the  empty." 
"  Because  he  did  not  take  lessons  from  thee.     My  dear 
friend,  no  one  is  listening  to  us,  so  I  may  say  that  all  thy 
life  thou  hast  been  doing  nothing  else." 

"Then  thou  art  sure  that  I  will  pay  thee?" 
"I  am." 

"Thou  art  right;  I  wanted  of  thee  a  favor  to  which  I 
have  no  claim.  But  even  I  feel  wearied  at  last  of  all  this, 
—  to  take  something  here  and  thrust  it  in  there;  to  live 
eternally  in  such  a  whirl  passes  human  power  in  the  long 
run.     I  am  sailing,  as  it  were,  into  the  harbor.     In  two 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  187 

months  I  shall  be  on  a  new  footing,  but  meanwhile  I  am 
using  the  last  of  my  steam;  'tis  not  in  thy  way  to  oblige 
me;  the  position  is  difficult.  There  is  a  small  forest  in 
Kremen;  I  will  cut  that  and  pay,  since  there  is  no  other 
way." 

"What  forests  are  there  in  Kremen?  Old  Plavitski 
shaved  off  everything  that  could  be  taken." 

"There  is  a,  large  oak  grove  behind  the  house,  toward 
Nedzyalkov." 

"True,  there  is." 

"I  know  that  thou  and  Bigiel  take  up  such  affairs.  Buy 
that  forest;  it  will  spare  me  the  search  for  a  purchaser, 
and  he  and  thou  can  come  out  of  the  business  with  profit." 

"I  will  discuss  it  with  Bigiel." 

"Then  thou  wilt  not  refuse  in  advance?" 

"No;  if  thou  give  it  cheaply,  I  may  even  take  the  forest 
myself.  But  in  such  matters  I  need  to  calculate  the  pos- 
sible profits  or  losses;  I  want  also  to  know  thy  terms. 
Make  thy  own  estimates.  Send  me  thy  list;  how  many 
trees  there  are,  and  what  kinds." 

"  I  will  send  it  in  an  hour." 

"In  that  case  I  will  give  thee  an  answer  in  the  evening." 

"I  advise  thee  beforehand  of  one  thing,  — thou  wilt  not 
have  the  right  to  cut  oak  for  two  months." 

"Why  is  that?" 

"  Because  Kremen  will  lose  greatly  by  losing  that  orna- 
ment; hence  I  propose  that  it  be  resold  to  me  after  the 
marriage,  of  course  at  a  good  profit  to  thee." 

"We  shall  see." 

"Besides,  T  have  marl  in  Kremen;  thou  hast  spoken  to 
me  of  this.  Plavitski  reckoned  it  at  millions, — that,  of 
course,  is  nonsense;  but  in  the  hands  of  clever  men  it 
might  be  made  a  paying  business.  Think  that  over,  too, 
with  Bigiel;  I  would  take  thee  into  partnership." 

"Should  the  business  seem  good,  we  may  take  it;  our 
house  exists  to  gain  profit." 

"Then  we  wHl  talk  of  the  marl  later  on;  but  now  I 
return  to  the  oak.  Let  the  general  outline  of  our  bargain 
be  this, — that  I,  instead  of  the  first  payment,  give  thee 
the  oak  grove,  or  a  part  of  it,  according  to  estimate.  I 
give  it  in  some  sense  in  pledge,  and  thou  art  obliged  not  to 
cut  trees  bofore  the  close  of  the  following  quarter." 

"I  can  do  that;  evidently  there  will  be  questions  later 
on  as  to  removal  of  tlie  oak,"  which  we  shall  mention  when 
writing  the  contract,  if,  in  general,  we  write  one."  , 


188  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

"Then  there  is  at  least  one  burden  off  my  head,"  said 
Mushko,  rubbing  his  forehead  with  his  hand.  "  Imagine 
that  1  have  ten  or  fifteen  such  every  day,  not  counting 
conversatimis  on  business  with  Pani  Kraslavski,  which  are 
more  wearying  than  all  else,  and  then  waiting  on  my 
betrothed,  who  "  —  here  Mashko  interrupted  himself  for  a 
moment,  but  suddenly  waved  his  hand,  and  added  —  "  which 
also  is  not  easy." 

Pan  Stanislav  looked  at  him  with  amazement.  On  the 
lips  of  Mashko,  who,  in  every  word,  followed  society 
observances  so  closely,  this  was  something  unheard  of. 
Mashko,  however,  spoke  on,  — 

"But  let  that  pass;  thou  knowest  how  near  we  were  to 
quarrelling  before  Litka's  death.  I  had  not  in  mind  thy 
great  love  for  that  little  maiden;  I  forgot  that  thou  wert 
disturbed  and  annoyed.  I  acted  rudely;  the  fault  was  on 
my  side  entirely,  and  I  beg  thy  pardon." 

"That  is  a  forgotten  affair,"  said  Pan  Stanislav. 

"  I  revive  it  because  I  have  a  service  to  beg  of  thee. 
The  affair  is  of  this  kind:  I  have  not  friends,  blood  rela- 
tives ;  I  have  n't  them,  or  if  I  have,  it  is  not  worth  while 
to  exhibit  them.  Now,  I  must  find  groomsmen,  and,  in 
truth,  I  do  not  know  well  where  to  look  for  them.  I  have 
managed  the  business  of  various  young  lords,  as  thou 
knowest;  but  to  ask  the  first  young  fellow  whom  I  meet, 
because  he  has  a  title,  does  not  beseem  me,  and  I  am  un- 
willing to  do  so.  With  me  it  is  a  question  of  having 
groomsmen  who  are  people  of  position,  and,  I  tell  thee 
openly,  with  prominent  names.  Those  ladies,  too,  attach 
great  importance  to  this  matter.  Wilt  thou  be  a  grooms- 
man for  me?" 

"  In  other  circumstances  I  would  not  refuse ;  but  I  will 
tell  thee  how  it  is.  Look  at  me:  I  have  no  crape  on  my 
hat  nor  white  tape  on  my  coat,  therefore  I  am  not  in 
mourning;  but  I  give  thee  my  word  that  I  am  in  deeper 
mourning  than  if  my  own  child  were  dead." 

"That  is  true;  I  had  not  thought  of  that,"  said  Mashko. 
"I  beg  thy  pardon." 

These  words  impressed  Pan  Stanislav. 

"But  if  this  is  very  important;  if,  in  truth,  thou  art 
unable  to  find  another,  —  let  it  be  according  to  thy  wish ; 
but  I  say  sincerely  that  for  me,  after  such  a  funeral,  it 
will  be  difficult  to  assist  at  a  wedding." 

Pan  Stanislav  did  not  say,  it  is  true,  at  such  a  wedding, 


CHILDREN  OF  THE   SOIL.  189 

but  Masliko  divined  his  thought.  "There  is  another  cir- 
cumstance, too,"  continued  he.  "Thou  must  have  heard 
of  a  certain  poor  little  doctor,  who  fell  in  love  to  the  death 
with  thy  betrothed.  She  was  free  not  to  return  his  love 
no  man  will  reproach  her  for  that;  but  he,  poor  fellow' 
went  his  way  somewhere  to  the  land  where  pepper  grows,' 
and  the  deuce  took  him.  Dost  understand?  I  was  in 
friendship  with  that  doctor;  he  confided  his  misfortune  to 
me,  and  wept  out  his  secret.  Dost  understand?  In  these 
conditions  to  be  groomsman  for  another  —  say  thyself. " 

"And  did  that  man  really  die  of  love  for  my  betrothed?" 

"But  hast  thou  not  heard  of  it?" 

"Not  only  have  I  not  heard,  but  I  cannot  believe  my 
own  ears." 

"Knowest  thou  what,  Mashko,  marriage  changes  a  man; 
but  I  see  that  betrothal  does  also,  — I  do  not  recognize  thee 
simply." 

"  Because,  as  I  have  said,  I  am  so  wearj^  that  breath  fails 
me,  and  at  such  times  the  mask  falls." 

"  What  dost  thou  mean  by  that?" 

"I  mean  that  there  are  two  kinds  of  people, — one,  of 
people  who  never  limit  themselves  by  anything,  and  arrange 
their  modes  of  action  according  to  every  circumstance;  the 
other,  of  people  having  a  certain  system  which  they  hold 
to  with  more  or  less  sequence.  I  belong  to  the  second.  I 
am  accustomed  to  observe  appearances,  and,  what  is  more, 
accustomed  so  long  that  at  last  it  has  become  a  second 
nature  to  me.  But,  for  example,  when  travelling  in  time 
of  great  heat,  a  moment  may  come  on  the  man  who  is  most 
comme  il  faut,  when  he  will  unbutton  not  only  his  coat, 
but  his  shirt;  such  a  moment  has  come  on  me,  therefore  I 
unbutton." 

"This  means?  —  " 

"It  means  tliat  I  am  transfixed  with  astonishment  that 
any  man  could  fall  in  love  to  the  death  with  my  betrothed, 
who  is,  as  thou  on  a  time  didst  give  me  to  understand, 
cold,  formal,  and  as  mechanical  in  words,  thoughts,  and 
movements  as  if  wound  up  with  a  key;  that  is  perfectly 
true,  and  I  confirm  it.  I  do  not  wish  thee  to  hold  me  for 
a  greater  wretch  than  I  am;  I  do  not  love  her,  and  my 
wife  will  be  as  formal  as  my  betrothed.  I  loved  Panna 
Plavitski,  who  rejected  me.  Panna  Kraslavski  I  take  for 
her  property.  Call  this  iniquity,  if  it  suit  thee  to  do  so; 
I  will  answer  that  such  iniquity  has  been  committed,  or 


190  CHILDREN  OF  THE   SOIL. 

will  be  committed,  by  thousands  among  those  so-called 
honorable  people,  to  whom  thou  art  ready  to  give  thy 
hand.  Moreover,  life  does  not  flow  on  in  delight  for  people 
thus  married,  but  also  not  in  tragedy;  they  limp,  but  go 
forward.  Later  on  they  are  aided  by  years  spent  together, 
which  bring  a  species  of  attachment,  by  children  who  are 
born  to  them ;  and  they  get  on  in  some  fashion.  Such  are 
most  jnarriages,  for  the  majority  choose  to  walk  on  the 
earth ,  rather  than  scale  summits.  Sometimes  there  are  even 
worse  marriages:  when  a  woman  wishes  to  fly,  and  a  man 
to  creep,  or  vice  versa,  there  is  no  chance  for  an  under- 
standing. As  to  me,  I  have  worked  like  an  ox.  Coming 
from  a  reduced  family,  I  wished  to  gain  distinction,  I  con- 
fess. If  I  had  consented  to  remain  an  obscure  attorney, 
and  acquire  merely  money,  perhaps  I  should  have  unlocked 
and  thrown  open  to  my  son  the  door  to  light;  but  I  have 
no  love  for  my  children  before  they  come  into  the  world, 
hence  I  wished  not  only  to  have  money  myself,  but  to  be 
somebody,  to  mean  something,  to  occupy  a  position,  to 
have  such  weight  as  with  us  it  is  possible  to  have,  at  least 
in  society.  From  this  it  has  happened  that  what  the 
advocate  gained,  the  great  lord  expended;  position  obliges. 
This  is  why  I  have  not  money.  Struggling  of  this  sort 
has  wearied  me.  Opening  holes  in  one  place  to  fill  them  in 
another,  —for  this  reason  I  marry  Panna  Kraslavski;  who 
again  marries  me  for  the  reason  that,  if  I  am  not  really  a 
great  lord,  amusing  himself  in  the  legal  career,  I  am  so 
apparently.  The  match  is  even ;  there  is  no  injustice  to 
any  one,  and  neither  has  tricked  the  other,  or,  if  it  please 
thee,  we  have  tricked  each  other  equally.  Here  is  the 
whole  truth  for  thee;  now  despise  me  if  thou  wish." 

"As  God  lives,  I  have  never  respected  thee  more," 
answered  Pan  Stanislav;  ''for  now  I  admire  not  thy  sin- 
cerity merely,  but  also  thy  courage." 

"I  accept  the  compliment  because  thou  art  candid;  but 
in  what  dost  thou  see  courage?" 

"In  this, —that  having  so  few  illusions  as  to  Panna 
Araslavski,  thou  art  going  to  marry  her." 

"I  marry  her  because  I  am  more  wise  than  foolish.  I 
looked  for  money,  it  is  true;  but  thinkest  thou  that  for 
money  I  would  marry  the  first  woman  I  met  who  possessed 
It.''  By  no  means,  my  dear  friend.  I  take  Panna  Kra- 
slavski, and  I  know  what  I  am  doing.  She  has  her  great 
qualities,  indispensable  under  the  circumstances  in  which 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  191 

I  take  her,  aud  in  which  she  marries  me.  She  will  be  a 
cold,  unagreeable  wife,  sour,  aud  even  contemptuous,  iu  so 
far  as  she  does  not  fear  me;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  Panua 
Kraslavski,  as  well  as  her  mother,  has  a  religious  respect  for 
appearances ,  —  for  what  is  fitting,  or,  speaking  generally, 
for  what  is  polite.  This  is  one  point.  Further,  there  is 
not  even  one  germ  in  her  from  which  love  intrigues  could 
grow;  and  life  with  her,  be  it  disagreeable  as  it  may,  will 
never  end  in  scandal.  This  is  the  second.  Third,  she  is 
pedantic  in  everything,  as  well  in  religion  as  in  fulfilment 
of  all  the  duties  which  she  may  take  on  herself.  This  is, 
indeed,  a  great  quality.  I  shall  not  be  happy  with  her, 
but  I  can  be  at  peace ;  and  who  knows  if  this  is  not  the 
maximum  possible  to  ask  of  life,  and  I  tell  thee,  my  dear 
friend,  tliat  when  a  man  takes  a  wife  he  should  think 
before  all  of  future  peace.  In  a  mistress  seek  what  pleases 
thee,  —  wit,  temperament,  a  poetical  form  of  sensitiveness. 
But  with  a  wife  one  must  live  years;  seek  in  her  that  on 
which  one  can  rely,  — seek  principles." 

"I  have  never  thought  thee  a  fool,"  said  Pan  Stanislav; 
"but  I  see  that  thou  hast  more  wit  than  I  suspected." 

"Our  women  —  take  those,  for  example,  of  the  money 
world  —  are  formed  really  on  the  French  novel ;  and  what 
comes  of  that  is  known  to  thee." 

"More  or  less;  but  to-day  thou  art  so  eloquent  that  1 
listen  to  thy  description  with  pleasure." 

"Well,  a  woman  becomes  her  own  God  and  her  own 
measure  of  right." 

"And  for  her  husband?" 

"A  chameleon  and  a  tragedy." 

"This  happens  a  little  in  the  world  of  much  money  and 
no  traditions;  there  everything  is  appearance  and  toilet, 
beneath  which  sits  not  a  soul ,  but  a  more  or  less  exquisite 
wild  beast.  And  this  wealthy  and  elegant  world,  amusing 
itself,  and  permeated  with  artistic,  literary,  and  even 
religious  dilettantism,  wields  the  baton  and  directs  the 
orchestra." 

"Not  yet  with  us." 

"Not  yet  altogether.  For  that  matter,  there  are  excep- 
tions, even  in  the  society  mentioned;  all  the  more  must 
there  be  outside  it.  Yes,  there  are  women  of  another 
kind  among  us,  —  for  instance,  Panna  Plavitski.  Oh, 
what  security,  and  withal  what  a  charm  of  life,  with  a 
woman  like  her!     Unhappily,  she  is  not  for  me." 


192  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

"  jVIashko,  I  was  ready  to  recognize  in  thee  cleverness, 
but  I  did  not  know  thee  to  have  enthusiasm." 

"  What 's  to  be  done?  I  was  in  love  with  her,  but  now 
I  am  going  to  marry  Panna  Kraslavski." 

Mashko  pronounced  the  last  words,  as  if  in  anger,  then 
followed  a  moment  of  silence. 

"Then  thou  wilt  not  be  my  groomsman?" 

"Give  me  time  to  consider." 

"In  three  days  I  am  going  away." 

"To  what  place?" 

"To  St.  Petersburg.  I  have  business  there j  I  will  stay 
about  two  weeks." 

"I  will  give  my  answer  on  thy  return." 

"Very  well;  to-day  I  will  send  thee  the  estimate  of  my 
oak  in  three  sizes.     To  save  the  instalment!  " 

"And  the  conditions  on  which  I  will  buy  it." 

Here  Mashko  took  leave  and  went  out.'  Pan  Stanislav 
hastened  to  his  office.  After  a  conversation  with  Bigiel, 
he  decided,  if  the  affair  should  seem  practicable  and  profit- 
able, to  buy  the  oak  alone.  He  could  not  account  to  him- 
self why  he  felt  a  certain  wonderful  desire  to  be  connected 
with  Kremen.  After  business  hours  he  thought  also  of 
what  Mashko  had  said  of  Panna  Plavitski.  He  felt  that  the 
man  had  told  the  truth,  and  that,  with  a  woman  of  this 
kind,  life  might  be  not  only  safe  and  peaceful,  but  full  of 
charm;  he  noticed,  however,  that  in  those  meditations  he 
rendered  justice  rather  to  the  type  of  which  Marynia  was 
a  specimen,  than  to  Marynia  in  person.  He  observed  also 
in  himself  a  thousand  inconsistencies:  he  saw  that  he  felt 
a  certain  repugnance,  and  even  anger,  at  the  thought  of 
loving  any  one  "or  anything,  or  letting  his  heart  go  into 
bonds  and  knots,  usually  fastened  so  firmly  that  they  were 
painful.  At  the  very  thought  of  this  he  was  enraged,  and 
repeated  in  spirit,  "  I  will  not ;  I  have  had  enough  of  this ! 
It  is  an  unwholesome  exuberance,  which  leads  people 
only  to  errors  and  suffering."  At  the  same  time  he  took 
it  ill,  —  for  example,  that  she  did  not  love  him  with  a 
certain  exuberant  and  absolute  love,  and  opened  her  heart 
to  him  only  when  duty  commanded.  Afterward,  when  he 
did  not  want  love,  he  was  astonished  that  it  began  to  pall 
on  him  so  easily,  and  that  he  desired  Marj-^nia  far  more 
when  she  was  opposed,  than  now,  when  she  was  altogether 
inclined  to  him. 

"All  leads  to  this  at  last,"  thought  he:  "that  man  him« 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  193 

self  does  not  know  what  he  wants,  or  what  he  must  hold 
to;  that  is  his  position.  May  a  thunderbolt  split  it! 
Tanna  Plavitski  has  more  good  qualities  than  she  herself 
suspects.  She  is  dutiful,  just,  calm,  attractive;  my 
thoughts  draw  me  toward  her;  and  still  I  feel  that  Panna 
Plavitski  is  not  for  me  what  she  once  was,  and  that  the 
devils  have  taken  something  that  was  in  me.  But  what 
is  it  ?  As  to  the  capacity  for  loving,"  continued  Pan 
Stanislav,  in  his  monologue,  "I  have  come  to  the  conclu- 
sion that  loving  is  most  frequently  folly,  and  loving  too 
much  folly  at  all  times;  hence  1  should  now  be  content, 
but  I  am  not." 

After  a  while  it  came  to  his  mind  that  this  was  merely 
a  species  of  weakness, — such,  for  example,  as  follows  an 
operation  in  surgery,  or  an  illness  that  a  man  has  passed 
tlirough,  — and  that  positive  life  will  fill  out  in  time  that 
void  which  he  feels.  For  him  positive  life  was  his  mer- 
cantile house.  When  he  went  to  dine,  he  found  Vaskovski 
and  two  servants,  who  winked  at  each  other  when  they 
saw  how  the  old  man  at  times  held  motionless  an  uplifted 
fork  with  a  morsel  of  meat  on  it,  and  fell  to  thinking  of 
death,  or  talking  to  himself.  Professor  Vaskovski  had  for 
some  time  been  holding  these  monologues,  and  spoke  to 
himself  on  the  street  so  distinctly  that  people  looked 
around  at  him.  His  blue  eyes  were  turned  on  Pan  Stan- 
islav for  a  while  vacantly;  then  he  roused  himself,  as  if 
from  sleep,  and  finished  the  thought  which  had  risen  in 
his  head.  "She  says  that  this  will  bring  her  near  the 
child." 

"Who  says?"  inquired  Pan  Stanislav. 

"Paui  Emilia." 

"How  will  she  be  nearer?" 

"She  wauts  to  become  a  Sister  of  Charity." 

Pan  Stanislav  grew  silent  under  the  impression  of  that 
news.  He  was  able  to  meditate  over  that  which  passed 
through  his  head,  to  expel  feeling,  to  philosophize  on  the 
unwholesome  excesses  of  the  society  in  which  he  lived; 
but  in  his  soul  he  had  two  sacred  images , —  Litka  and  Pani 
Emilia.  Litka  had  become  simply  a  cherished  memory, 
but  he  loved  Pani  Emilia  with  a  living,  brotherly,  and 
most  tender  affection,  which  he  never  touched  in  his  medi- 
tations. So  for  a  time  he  could  not  find  speech;  then  he 
looked  sternly  at  Vaskovski,  and  said,  — 

"Professor,  thou  art  persuading  her  to  this.     I  do  not 

i3 


194  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

enter  into  thy  mysticism  and  ideas  from  beneath  a  dark 
star,  but  know  this,  — that  thou  wilt  take  her  life  on  thy 
conscience ;  for  she  has  not  the  strength  to  be  a  Sister  of 
Charity,  and  will  die  in  a  year." 

"My  dear  friend,"  answered  Vaskovski,  "thou  hast  con- 
demned me  unjustly  without  a  hearing.  Hast  thou  stopped 
to  consider  what  the  expression  'just  man  '  means?" 

•'  When  it  is  a  question  of  one  dear  to  me,  I  jeer  at 
expressions." 

"  She  told  me  yesterday  of  this,  most  unexpectedly,  and 
I  asked,  '  But,  my  child,  will  you  have  the  strength? 
That  is  arduous  labor. '  She  smiled  at  me,  and  said :  *  Do 
not  refuse  me,  for  this  is  my  refuge,  my  happiness.  Should 
it  seem  that  I  have  not  strength  enough,  they  will  not 
receive  me;  but  if  they  receive  me,  and  my  strength  fails 
afterward,  I  shall  go  sooner  to  Litka,  and  I  am  yearning 
so  much  for  her.'  What  had  I  to  answer  to  such  a  choice, 
and  such  simplicity?  What  art  thou  able  to  say,  even 
thou,  who  art  without  belief?  Wouldst  thou  have  courage 
to  say:  '  Perhaps  Litka  is  not  in  existence;  a  life  in  labor, 
in  charity,  in  sacrifice,  and  death  in  Christ,  may  not  lead  to 
Litka  at  all '  ?  Invent  another  consolation ;  but  what  wilt 
thou  invent?  Give  her  another  hope,  heal  her  with  some- 
thing else;  but  with  what  wilt  thou  heal  her?  Besides, 
thou  wilt  see  her  thyself;  speak  to  her  sincerely.  Wilt 
thou  have  courage  to  dissuade  her?" 

"No,"  answered  Pan  Stanislav,  briefly;  and  after  awhile 
he  added,  "  Only  suffering  on  all  sides." 

"  One  thing  might  be  possible,"  continued  Vaskovski. 
"  To  choose  instead  of  Sisters  of  Charity,  whose  work  is  be- 
yond her  strength,  some  contemplative  order;  there  are 
those  in  whom  the  poor  human  atom  is  so  dissolved  in  God 
that  it  ceases  to  lead  an  individual  existence,  and  ceases  to 
suffer." 

Pan  Stanislav  waved  his  hand.  "  I  do  not  understand 
these  things,"  said  he,  dryly,  "  and  I  do  not  look  into  them." 

"I  have  here  somewhere  a  little  Italian  book  on  the 
Ladies  of  Nazareth,"  said  Vaskovski,  opening  his  coat. 
"Where  did  I  put  it?  When  going  out,  I  stuck  it 
somewhere." 

"  What  can  the  Ladies  of  Nazareth  be  to  me  ?  " 

But  Vaskovski,  after  unbuttoning  his  coat,  unbuttoned 
his  shirt  in  searching ;  then  he  thought  a  while  and  said, 
<'  What  am  I  looking  for  ?  I  know  that  little  Italian  book.  In 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  195 

a  couple  of  days  I  am  going  to  Rome  for  a  long,  very  long 
time.  Eemeraber  what  I  said,  that  Rome  is  the  antecham- 
ber to  another  world.  It  is  time  for  me  to  go  to  God's 
antechamber.  I  Avould  persuade  Emilia  greatly  to  go  to 
Rome,  but  she  will  not  leave  her  child ;  she  will  remain  here 
as  a  Sister  of  Charity.  Maybe,  however,  the  order  of  Naza- 
reth would  please  her;  it  is  as  simple  and  mild  as  was 
primitive  Christianity.  Not  with  the  head,  my  dear,  for 
there  they  know  better  what  to  do,  but  with  the  heart, 
childlike  but  loving." 

"  Button  thy  shirt,  professor,"  said  Pan  Stanislav. 

''Very  good;  I  will  button  it.  I  have  something  at  my 
heart,  and  I  would  tell  it  thee ;  thou  art  as  mobile  as  water, 
but  thou  hast  a  soul.  Seest  thou,  Christianity  not  only  is 
not  coming  to  an  end,  as  some  philosophizing,  giddy  heads 
imagine,  but  it  has  only  made  half  its  way." 

"  Dear  professor,"  said  Pan  Stanislav,  mildly,  "  I  will 
listen  to  what  thou  hast  to  tell  me  willingly  aiid  patiently, 
but  not  to-day ;  for  to-day  I  am  thinking  only  of  Pani 
Emilia,  and  there  is  simply  a  squeezing  at  my  throat.  This 
is  a  catastrophe." 

"  Xot  for  her,  since  her  life  will  be  a  success,  and  her 
death  also." 

Pan  Stanislav  began  to  mutter,  "  As  God  lives,  not  only 
every  mightier  feeling,  but  simple  friendship,  ends  in  regret; 
never  has  any  attachment  brought  me  a  thing  except  suffer- 
ing. Bukatski  is  right :  from  general  attachments  there  is 
nothing  but  suffering,  from  personal  attachments  nothing  but 
suffering ;  and  now  live,  man,  in  the  world  so  surrounded." 

The  conversation  broke  off,  or  rather  was  turned  into  the 
monologue  of  Professor  Vaskovski,  who  began  a  discourse 
with  himself  about  Rome  and  Christianity.  After  dinner 
they  went  out  on  the  street,  wliich  was  full  of  the  sound  of 
sleighbells  and  the  gladsome  winter  movement.  Though  in 
the  morning  of  that  day  snow  had  fallen  in  sufficient  abun- 
dance, toward  evening  the  weather  had  become  fair,  calm, 
and  frosty. 

"  But,  professor,  button  thy  shirt." 

"Very  well;  I  will  button  it,"  answered  Vaskovski;  and 
he  began  to  draw  the  holes  of  his  vest  to  the  buttons  of  his 
frockcoat. 

"  Still  I  like  that  Vaskovski,"  said  Pan  Stanislav,  to  him- 
self, when  on  the  way  home.  "  If  I  were  to  grow  attached  to 
him  for  good,  the  deuce  would  take  him  surely,  for  such  is 


196  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

my  fate.  Fortunately  I  am  insensible  enough  to  him  so 
far."  And  thus  he  persuaded  himself  untruly,  for  he  had  a 
sincere  friendship  for  Vaskovski,  and  the  man's  fate  was 
not  indifferent  in  the  least  to  him.  When  he  reached  home, 
Litka's  face  smiled  at  him  from  a  large  photograph  as  he 
entered ;  this  had  been  sent  by  Marynia  during  his  absence, 
and  moved  Pan  Stanislav  to  the  depth  of  his  soul.  He  ex- 
perienced, moreover,  this  species  of  emotion  whenever  he 
remembered  Litka  on  a  sudden,  or  saw  unexpectedly  one  of 
her  portraits.  He  thought  then,  that  love  for  the  child, 
hidden  away  somewhere  in  the  depth  of  his  heart,  rose 
suddenly  with  its  previous  vividness  and  power,  penetrating 
his  whole  being  with  indescribable  tenderness  and  sorrow. 
This  revival  of  sorrow  was  even  so  painful  that  he  avoided 
it  as  a  man  avoids  a  real  suffering  usually.  This  time, 
however,  there  was  something  sweet  in  his  emotion.  Litka 
was  smiling  at  him  by  the  light  of  the  lamp,  as  if  she 
wished  to  say  "  Pan  Stas ; "  around  her  head  on  the  white 
margin  of  the  picture  were  four  green  birches.  Pan  Stan- 
islav stopped  and  looked  for  a  long  time  ;  at  last  he  thought, 
"  I  know  in  what  may  be  the  happiness  of  life,  in  children !  " 
But  he  said  to  himself  a  few  moments  later,  "  I  never  shall 
love  my  own  as  I  loved  that  poor  child."  The  servant 
entered  now  and  gave  him  a  letter  from  Marynia,  which 
came  with  the  photograph.     She  wrote  as  follows  :  — 

"My  father  asks  me  to  pray  you  to  spend  the  evening  with  us. 
Emilia  has  moved  to  her  own  house,  and  receives  no  visits  to-day. 
I  send  you  Litka's  photograph,  and  beg  you  to  come  without  fail.  I 
wish  to  speak  with  you  of  Emilia.  Papa  has  invited  Pan  Bigiel,  who 
has  promised  to  come ;  therefore  you  and  I  can  talk  quietly."' 

Pan  Stanislav,  after  reading  the  letter,  dressed,  read  a 
certain  time,  then  went  to  the  Plavitskis'.  Bigiel  had  been 
there  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  and  was  playing  piquet  with 
Plavitski ;  Marynia  was  sitting  at  some  distance,  by  a  small 
table,  occupied  in  work  of  some  kind.  After  he  had  greeted 
all,  Pan  Stanislav  sat  near  her,  — 

"I  thank  you  most  earnestly  for  the  photograph,"  began 
he.  "  I  saw  it  unexpectedly,  and  Litka  stood  before  my  eyes 
in  such  form  that  I  could  not  control  myself.  Moments 
like  that  are  the  measure  of  sorrow,  of  which  a  man  cannot 
even  give  account  to  himself.  I  thank  you  most  earnestlv, 
and  tor  the  four  birches  too.  Touching  Pani  Emilia  "l 
know  everything  from  Vaskovski.  Is  this  merely  a  project, 
or  a  fixed  resolve  ? "  j      r    j      » 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  197 

"  Rather  a  fixed  resolve,"  answered  Marynia ;  "  and  what 
do  you  think  ?  " 

Marynia  raised  her  eyes  to  him  as  if  waiting  for  some 
counsel. 

"She  has  not  strength  for  it,"  said  she,  finally. 

Pan  Stanislav  was  silent  a  while;  then  he  opened  his 
arms  helplessly,  and  said,  — 

"I  have  talked  about  this  with  Vaskovski.  I  attacked 
him,  since  I  thought  that  the  idea  was  his;  but  he  swore  to 
me  that  he  had  nothing  to  do  with  it.  He  asked  then 
what  other  consolation  I  could  think  out  for  her,  and  I 
could  give  him  no  answer.  What  in  life  has  remained  to 
her  really  ?  " 

"  What?  "  returned  Marynia,  in  a  low  voice. 

"Do  I  not  understand,  think  you,  whence  that  resolve 
came?  She  does  not  wish  to  violate  her  religious  principles 
in  any  way,  but  she  wants  to  die  as  soon  as  possible;  she 
knows  that  those  duties  are  beyond  her  strength,  and 
therefore  she  assumes  them." 

"True,"  answered  Marynia;  and  she  inclined  her  face  so 
closely  to  her  work  that  Pan  Stanislav  saw  only  the  part- 
ing of  the  dark  hair  on  her  small  head.  Before  her  stood 
a  box  full  of  pearls,  Avhich  she  was  sewing  on  to  various 
articles  to  be  used  in  a  lottery  for  benevolent  purposes; 
and  tears,  which  were  flowing  from  her  eyes,  began  to  drop 
on  those  pearls. 

"  I  see  that  you  are  weeping, "  said  Pan  Stanislav. 

She  raised  tearful  eyes  to  him,  as  if  to  say,  "Before 
thee  I  shall  not  hide  tears,"  and  answered,  "I  know  that 
Emilia  is  doing  well,  but  such  a  pity  —  " 

Pan  Stanislav,  partly  from  emotion,  and  partly  because 
he  knew  not  himself  what  to  answer,  kissed  her  hand  for 
the  first  time. 

Pearls  began  then  to  drop  more  thickly  from  Marynia's 
eyes,  so  that  she  had  to  rise  and  go  out.  Pan  Stanislav 
approached  the  players,  as  Plavitski  was  saying  in  a  sour, 
outspoken  tone,  to  his  partner,  — 

"Rubicon  after  Rubicon.  Ha!  it  is  difficult.  You 
represent  new  times,  and  I  old  traditions.  I  must  be 
beaten." 

"What  has  that  to  do  with  piquet?"  asked  Bigiel, 
calmly. 

Marynia  returned  soon,  with  the  announcement  that  tea 
was  ready;  her  eyes  were  somewhat  red,  but  her  face  was 


198  CHILDREN  OF  THE   SOIL. 

clear  and  calm.  When,  a  little  later,  Bigiel  and  Plavitski 
sat  down  at  cards  again,  she  conversed  with  Pan  Stanislav 
in  that  quiet,  contiding  tone  which  people  use  who  are  very 
near  to  each  other,  and  who  have  many  mutual  relations. 
It  is  true  that  those  mutual  relations  between  them  had 
been  created  by  the  death  of  Litka  and  the  misfortune  of 
Fani  Emilia, — hence  the  conversation  could  not  be  glad- 
some; but  in  spite  of  that,  Marynia's  eyes,  if  not  her  lips, 
smiled  at  Pan  Stanislav,  and  were  at  once  thoughtful  and 
clear. 

Later  in  the  evening,  after  his  departure,  Marynia  did 
not  name  him  in  her  mind,  when  she  thought  of  him,  other- 
wise, than  "Pan  Stas." 

Pan  Stanislav,  on  his  part,  returned  home  feeling  calmer 
by  far  than  he  had  since  Litka's  death.  While  pacing  his 
chamber,  he  made  frequent  halts  before  the  little  girl's 
photograph,  and  looked,  too,  at  the  four  birches  painted 
by  Marynia.  He  thought  that  the  bond  fastened  between 
him  and  Marynia  by  Litka  was  becoming  closer  each  day, 
as  if  without  any  one's  will,  and  simply  by  some  mysterious 
force  of  things.  He  thought,  too,  that  if  he  lacked  the 
former  original  desire  to  make  that  bond  permanent,  his 
courage  would  almost  fail  to  cut  it  decisively,  especiallj' 
so  soon  after  Litka's  death.  Late  in  the  night  he  sat  down 
to  the  lists  sent  by  Mashko.  At  times,  however,  he  made 
mistakes  in  the  reckoning,  for  he  saw  before  him  Marynia's 
head  inclining  forward,  and  her  tears  falling  on  the  box  of 
pearls. 

Next  morning  he  bought  the  oak  in  Kremen,  very  profit- 
ably, for  that  matter. 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL..  199 


CHAPTER  XXn. 

Mashko  returned  in  two  weeks  from  St.  Petersburg,  well 
pleased  with  his  arrangements  for  credit,  and  bringing 
important  news,  which  had  come  to  him,  as  he  stated,  in 
a  way  purely  confidential,  —  news  not  known  yet  to  any 
man.  The  preceding  harvest  had  been  very  poor  tlirough- 
out  the  whole  empire;  here  and  there  hunger  had  begun 
to  appear.  It  was  easy  to  divine,  therefore,  that,  before 
spring,  supplies  would  be  gone  in  whole  neighborhoods, 
and  that  the  catastrophe  of  hunger  might  become  uni- 
versal. In  view  of  this,  people  of  the  inner  circle  began  to 
whispsr  about  the  chance  of  stopping  the  grain  export;  and 
this  kind  of  echo  Mashko  brought  back,  with  the  assurance 
that  it  came  to  his  ears  through  people  extremely  well 
versed  in  affairs.  This  news  struck  Pan  Stanislav  so 
vividly  that  he  shut  himself  in  for  some  days,  pencil  in 
hand;  then  he  hurried  to  Bigiel  with  the  proposition  that 
the  ready  money  at  command  of  the  house,  as  well  as  its 
credit,  should  be  turned  to  prompt  purchases  of  grain. 
Bigiel  was  afraid,  but  he  began  by  being  afraid  of  every 
new  enterprise.  Pan  Stanislav  did  not  conceal  from  him 
that  this  would  be  a  large  operation,  on  the  success  or 
failure  of  which  their  fate  might  depend.  Complete 
failure,  however,  was  little  likely,  and  success  might  make 
them  really  rich  at  one  sweep.  It  was  to  be  foreseen  that, 
in  view  of  the  lack  of  grain,  prices  would  rise  in  every 
event.  It  was  also  to  be  foreseen  that  the  law  would 
limit  the  possibility  of  making  new  contracts  with  foreign 
merchants,  but  would  respect  contracts  made  before  its 
promulgation;  but  even  if  it  failed  in  this  regard,  the  rise 
of  prices  in  the  country  itself  was  a  thing  almost  certain. 
Pan  Stanislav  had  foreseen  and  calculated  everything,  in 
so  far  as  man  could;  and  Bigiel,  who,  in  spite  of  his 
caution,  was  a  person  of  judgment,  was  forced  to  confess 
that  the  chances  of  success  were  really  considerable,  and 
that  it  would  be  a  pity  to  miss  the  opportunity. 

In  fact,  after  a  number  of  new  consultations,  during 
which  Bigiel's  opposition  grew  weaker  and  weaker,  they 
decided  on  that  which  Pan  Stanislav  wished;  and  after  a 


200  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

certain  time  their  chief  agent,  Abdulski,  went  out  with 
power  to  make  contracts  in  the  name  of  the  house,  as  well 
for  grain  on  hand  as  for  grain  not  threshed  yet. 

After  Abdulski's  departure,  Bigiel  went  to  Prussia.  Pan 
Stanislav  remained  alone  at  the  head  of  the  house,  toiled 
from  morning  till  evening,  and  made  scarcely  a  visit.  But 
time  did  not  drag,  for  he  was  roused  by  hope  of  great  profit 
and  a  future  of  fuller  activity. 

Pan  Stanislav,  in  throwing  himself  into  that  specula- 
tion, and  drawing  in  Bigiel,  did  so,  first  of  all,  because  he 
thought  it  good;  but  he  had  another  thought,  too,  — the 
mercantile  house  with  all  its  aifairs  was  too  narrow  a  field 
for  his  special  training,  abilities,  and  energies,  and  Pan 
Stanislav  felt  this.  Finally,  what  was  the  question  in 
affairs  handled  by  the  house?  To  buy  cheap,  sell  dear, 
and  put  the  profit  in  a  safe;  that  was  its  one  object.  Pur- 
chases direct,  or  through  another, — nothing  more.  Pan 
Stanislav  felt  confined  in  those  limits.  "I  should  like  to 
dig  up  something,  or  make  something,"  said  he  to  Bigiel, 
in  moments  of  dissatisfaction  and  distaste;  "at  the  root  of 
the  matter  we  are  simply  trying  to  direct  to  our  own 
pockets  some  current  from  that  stream  of  money  which  is 
flowing  in  the  business  of  men,  but  weproduce  nothing." 

And  that  was  true.  Pan  Stanislav  wished  to  advance  to 
property,  to  acquire  capital,  and  then  undertake  some  very 
large  work,  giving  a  wider  field  for  labor  and  creativeness. 

The  opportunity  had  come,  as  it  seemed  to  him;  hence 
he  grasped  with  both  hands  at  it.  "I  will  think  of  other 
things  afterward,"  thought  he. 

By  "other  things,"  he  meant  his  affairs  of  mind  and 
heart, — that  is,  his  relations  to  religion,  people,  country, 
woman.  He  understood  that  to  be  at  rest  in  life  one  must 
explain  these  relations,  and  stand  on  firm  feet.  There  are 
men  who  all  their  lives  do  not  know  their  position  with 
reference  to  these  principles,  and  whom  every  wind  turns 
toward  a  new  point.  Pan  Stanislav  felt  that  a  man  should 
not  live  thus.  In  his  state  of  mind,  as  it  then  was,  he  saw 
that  these  questions  might  be  decided  in  a  manner  direct 
to  dryness,  as  well  as  positive  to  materialism,  and  in 
general  negatively;  but  he  understood  that  they  must  be 
decided. 

"I  wish  to  know  clearly  whether  I  am  bound  to  some- 
thing or  not,"  thought  he. 

Meanwhile  he  labored,  and  saw  people  little;  he  could 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOHi.  201 

not  withdraw  from  them  altogether.  He  convinced  him- 
self, also,  that  questions  most  intimately  personal  can- 
not be  decided  otherwise  than  internally,  otherwise  than 
by  one's  own  brain  or  heart,  within  the  four  walls  of 
the  body;  but  that  most  frequently  certain  external  influ- 
ences, certain  people,  near  or  distant,  hasten  the  end  of 
meditation,  and  the  decisions  flowing  from  it.  This 
happened  at  his  farewell  with  Pani  Emilia,  who  was  now 
shortening  daily,  and  almost  feverishly,  the  time  before 
her  entrance  on  her  novitiate  with  the  Sisters  of  Charity. 

Amid  all  his  occupations.  Pan  Stanislav  did  not  cease  to 
visit  her;  but  a  number  of  times  he  failed  to  find  her  at 
home.  Once  he  met  Pani  Bigiel  at  her  house,  and  also 
Pani  and  Panna  Kraslavski,  whose  presence  constrained 
him  in  a  high  degree.  Afterward,  when  Marynia  informed 
him  that  Pani  Emilia  would  begin  her  novitiate  in  a  few 
days,  he  went  to  take  farewell  of  her. 

He  found  her  calm  and  almost  joyous,  but  his  heart  was 
pained  when  he  looked  at  her.  Her  face  was  transparent 
in  places,  as  if  formed  of  pearl;  the  blue  veins  appeared 
through  the  skin  on  her  temples. 

She  was  very  beautiful,  in  a  style  almost  unearthly,  but 
Pan  Stanislav  thought:  "I  will  take  the  last  leave  of  her, 
for  she  will  not  hold  out  even  a  month;  from  one  more 
attachment,  one  more  grief  and  unhappiness." 

She  spoke  to  him  of  her  decision  as  of  a  thing  the  most 
usual,  to  be  understood  of  itself,  —  the  natural  outcome  of 
what  had  happened,  the  natural  refuge  from  a  life  deprived 
of  every  basis.  Pan  Stanislav  understood  that  for  him  to 
dissuade  her  would  be  purely  conscienceless,  and  an  act 
devoid  of  sense. 

"Will  you  remain  in  Warsaw?"  asked  he. 

"I  will,  for  I  wish  to  be  near  Litka;  and  the  mother 
superior  promised  that  I  should  be  in  the  house  first,  and 
afterward,  when  I  learn  something,  in  one  of  the  hospitals. 
Unless  unusual  events  come  to  pass,  while  I  am  in  the 
house  I  shall  be  free  to  visit  Litka  every  Sunday." 

Pan  Stanislav  set  his  teeth,  and  was  silent;  he  looked 
only  at  the  delicate  hands  of  Pani  Emilia,  thinking  in  his 
soul,  — 

"She  wishes  to  nurse  the  sick  with  those  hands." 

But  at  the  same  time  he  divined  that  she  wanted,  beyond 
all,  something  else.  He  felt  that  under  her  calmness  and 
resignation  there  was  immense  pain,  strong  as  death,  and 


202  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

calling  for  death  with  all  the  powers  of  her  heart  and  soul ; 
but  she  wished  death  to  come  without  her  fault,  not  through 
her  sin,  but  her  service,  — her  reward  for  that  service  was 
to  be  her  union  with  Litka. 

And  now,  for  the  first  time,  Pan  Stanislav  understood 
the  difference  between  pain  and  pain,  between  sorrow  and 
sorrow.  He,  too,  loved  Litka;  but  in  him,  besides  sorrow 
for  her,  and  remembrance  of  her,  there  was  something  else, 
—  a  certain  interest  in  life,  a  certain  curiosity  touching 
the  future,  certain  desires,  thoughts,  tendencies.  To  Pani 
Emilia  there  remained  nothing,  — it  was  as  if  she  had  died 
with  Litka;  and  if  anything  in  the  world  occupied  her 
yet,  if  she  loved  those  who  were  near  her,  it  was  only  for 
Litka,  through  Litka,  and  in  so  far  as  they  were  connected 
with  Litka. 

These  visits  and  that  farewell  were  oppressive  to  Pan 
Stanislav.  He  had  been  deeply  attached  to  Pani  Emilia, 
but  now  he  had  the  feeling  that  the  cord  binding  them  had 
snapped  once  and  forever,  that  their  roads  parted  at  that 
moment,  for  he  was  going  farther  by  the  way  of  life;  she, 
however,  wished  her  life  to  burn  out  as  quickly  as  possible, 
and  had  chosen  labor,  —  blessed,  it  is  true,  —  but  beyond 
her  strength,  so  as  to  make  death  come  more  quickly. 

This  thought  closed  his  lips.  In  the  last  moments,  how- 
ever, the  attachment  which  he  had  felt  for  her  from  of 
old  overcame  him;  and  he  spoke  with  genuine  emotion 
while  kissing  her  hand. 

"Dear,  very  dear  lady,  may  God  guard  and  comfort 
you ! " 

Here  words  failed  him;  but  she  said,  without  dropping 
his  hand,  — 

"Till  I  die,  I  shall  not  forget  you,  since  you  loved  Litka 
80  much.  I  know,  from  Marynia,  that  Litka  united  you 
and  her;  and  for  that  reason  I  know  that  you  will  be 
happy,  otherwise  God  would  not  have  inspired  her.  As 
often  as  I  see  you  in  life,  I  shall  think  that  Litka  made 
you  happy.  Let  her  wish  be  accomplished  at  the  earliest, 
and  God  bless  you  both  !  " 

Pan  Stanislav  said  nothing;  but,  when  returning  home, 
he- thought,  — 

"Litka's  will!  She  does  not  even  admit  that  Litka's 
will  can  remain  unaccomplished;  and  how  was  I  to  tell 
her  that  the  other  is  not  for  me  now  what  she  once  was?  " 

Still  Pan  Stanislav  felt  with  increasing  distinctness  that 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  203 

it  was  not  right  to  remain  as  he  was  any  longer,  and  that 
those  bonds  connecting  him  with  Marynia  ought  soon  to 
be  tightened,  or  broken,  so  as  to  end  the  strange  condition, 
and  the  misunderstandings  and  sorrows  which  might  rise 
from  it.  He  felt  the  need  of  doing  this  quickly,  so  as  to 
act  with  honor;  and  new  alarm  seized  him,  for  it  seemed 
that,  no  matter  how  he  acted,  his  action  would  not  bring 
him  happiness. 

When  he  reached  home,  he  found  a  letter  from  Masliko, 
which  read  as  follows, — 

"  I  have  called  on  thee  twice  to-day.  Some  lunatic  has  insulted 
me  before  my  subordinates  on  account  of  the  oak  which  I  sold  thee. 
His  name  is  Gantovski.  I  need  to  speak  with  thee,  and  shall  come 
again  before  evening." 

In  fact,  he  ran  in  before  the  expiration  of  an  hour,  and 
asked,  without  removing  his  overcoat,  — 

"Dost  thou  know  that  Gantovski?" 

"I  know  him ;  he  is  a  neighbor  and  relative  of  the  Plavit- 
skis.     What  has  happened,  and  how  has  it  happened?  " 

Mashko  removed  his  overcoat,  and  said,  — 

"  I  do  not  understand  how  news  of  the  sale  could  get  out, 
for  I  have  not  spoken  of  it  to  any  one ;  and  it  was  important 
for  me  that  it  should  not  become  known." 

"Our  agent,  Abdulski,  went  to  Kremen  to  look  at  the 
oak.     Gantovski  must  have  heard  of  the  sale  from  him." 

"Listen;  this  is  the  event.  To-day  Gantovski's  card  is 
brought  into  my  office ;  not  knowing  who  he  is,  I  receive 
the  man,  A  rough  fellow  enters,  and  asks  if  'tis  true 
that  I  sold  the  oak,  and  if  I  wish  to  depopulate  a  part  of 
Kremen.  Evidently  I  reply  by  asking  how  that  may  con- 
cern him.  He  answers  that  I  have  bound  myself  to  pay 
old  Plavitski  a  yearly  annuity  from  Kremen;  and  that,  if 
I  ruin  the  place  by  a  plundering  management,  there  will 
be  nothing  through  which  to  compel  me.  In  answer,  as 
thou  canst  understand,  I  advise  him  to  t.ake  his  cap,  button 
up  closely,  in  view  of  the  frost,  and  go  to  the  place  whence 
he  came.  Hereupon  he  falls  to  making  an  uproar,  calling 
me  a  cheat  and  a  swindler.  At  last  he  says  that  he  lives 
in  the  Hotel  Saxe,  and  goes  out.  Hast  thou  the  key  to 
this?     Canst  thou  tell  me  its  meaning?" 

"Of  course.  First,  this  Gantovski  is  of  limited  mind, 
by  nature  he  is  rude;  second,  for  whole  years  he  has  been 
in  love  with  Panna  Plavitski,  and  has  wished  to  be  her 
knight." 


204  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL: 

"Thou  knowest  that  I  have  rather  cool  blood;  but,  in 
truth,  it  seems  at  times  a  dream.  That  a  man  should 
permit  himself  to  insult  me  because  I  sell  my  own  property, 
simply  passes  human  understanding." 

"  What  dost  thou  think  of  doing?  Old  Plavitski  will  be 
the  first  to  warm  Gantovski's  ears,  and  force  him  to  beg 
thy  pardon." 

Mashko's  face  took  on  such  a  cold  and  determined  ex- 
pression of  wrath  that  Pan  Stanislav  thought,  — 

"  Well,  *  the  bear '  has  brewed  beer  of  a  kind  that  he  did 
not  expect;  now  he  must  drink  it." 

"!N^o  one  has  ever  offended  me  without  being  punished, 
and  no  one  ever  will.  This  man  not  only  has  insulted  me, 
but  has  done  me  a  wrong  beyond  estimation." 

"He  is  a  fool,  simply  irresponsible." 

"  A  mad  dog,  too,  is  irresponsible,  but  people  shoot  him 
in  the  head.  I  talk,  as  thou  seest,  coolly;  listen,  then, 
to  what  I  say :  a  catastrophe  has  come  to  me,  from  which 
I  shall  not  rise." 

''Thou  art  speaking  coolly ;  but  anger  is  stifling  thee,  and 
thou  art  ready  to  exaggerate." 

"Kot  in  the  least;  be  patient,  and  hear  me  to  the  end. 
The  position  is  this:  If  my  marriage  is  stopped,  or  even 
put  off,  a  few  months,  the  devils  will  take  me,  with  my 
position,  my  credit,  my  Kremen,  and  all  that  I  have.  I 
tell  thee  that  I  am  travelling  with  the  last  of  my  steam, 
and  I  must  stop.  Panna  Kraslavski  does  not  marry  me  for 
love,  but  because  she  is  twenty-nine  years  of  age,  and  I 
seem  to  her,  if  not  the  match  she  dreamed  of,  at  least  a 
satisfactory  one.  If  it  shall  seem  that  I  am  not  what  she 
thinks,  she  will  break  with  me.  If  those  ladies  should 
discover  to-day  that  I  sold  the  oak  in  Kremen  from  neces- 
sity, I  should  receive  a  refusal  to-morrow.  Kow  think: 
the  scandal  was  public,  for  it  was  in  presence  of  my 
subordinates.  The  matter  will  not  be  kept  secret.  I 
might  explain  to  those  ladies  the  sale  of  the  oak,  but  yet  I 
shall  be  an  insulted  man.  If  I  do  not  challenge  Gantovski, 
they  may  break  with  me,  as  a  fellow  without  honor;  if  I 
challenge  him,  —  remember  that  they  are  devotees,  and, 
besides,  women  who  keep  up  appearances  as  no  others 
that  I  know,  — they  will  break  with  me  then  as  a  man  of 
adventures.  If  I  shoot  Gantovski,  they  will  break  with 
me  as  a  murderer;  if  he  hits  me,  they  will  break  with  me 
as  an  imbecile,  who  lets  himself  be  insulted  and  beaten. 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  205 

In  a  hundred  chances  there  are  ninety  that  they  will  act  in 
this  way.  Is  it  clear  to  thee  now  why  I  said  that  the 
devils  will  take  me,  ray  credit,  my  position,  and  Kremen 
in  addition?" 

Pan  Stanislav  waved  his  hand  with  all  the  easy  egotism 
to  which  a  man  can  bring  himself  in  reference  to  another, 
who,  at  the  bottom  of  things,  is  of  little  account  to  him. 

"Bah!"  said  he;  "maybe  I  will  buy  Kremen  of  thee. 
But  the  position  is  difficult.  What  dost  thou  think,  then, 
of  doing  with  Gantovski?" 

To  this  Mashko  answered:  "So  far  I  pay  my  debts. 
Thou  dost  not  wish  to  be  my  groomsman ;  wilt  thou  be  my 
second?  " 

"That  is  not  refused,"  answered  Pan  Stanislav. 

"I  thank  thee.     Gantovksi  lives  in  the  Hotel  Saxe." 

"I  will  be  with  him  to-morrow." 

Immediately  after  Mashko's  departure.  Pan  Stanislav 
went  to  spend  the  evening  at  Plavitski's;  on  the  road  he 
thought,  — 

"There  are  no  jokes  with  Mashko,  and  the  affair  will 
not  finish  in  common  fashion;  but  what  is  that  to  me? 
What  are  they  all  to  me,  or  I  to  them?  Still,  how  devil- 
ishly alone  a  man  is  in  the  world !  " 

And  all  at  once  he  felt  that  the  only  person  on  earth  who 
cared  for  him,  and  who  thought  of  him,  not  as  a  thing,  was 
Marynia. 

And,  in  fact,  when  he  came,  he  knew  from  the  very 
pressure  of  her  hand  that  this  was  true.  She  said  to  him, 
in  greeting,  with  her  mild  and  calm  voice,  — 

"I  had  a  presentiment  that  you  would  come.  See,  here 
is  a  cup  waiting  for  you." 


206  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

When  Pan  Stanislav  came  to  the  Plavitskis'  he  found 
there  Gantovski,  The  young  men  greeted  each  other  at 
once  with  evident  coldness  and  aversion.  There  was  not 
in  the  whole  world  that  day  an  unhappier  man  than  Gan- 
tovski. Old  Plavitski  bantered  him  as  usual,  and  even 
more  than  usual,  being  in  excellent  humor  because  of  his 
relative,  the  old  lady  from  whom  he  expected  a  consider- 
able inheritance.  Gantovski's  presence  was  awkward  for 
Marynia;  and  she  strove  in  vain  to  hide  this  annoyance  by 
kindness  and  a  cordial  reception.  At  last  Pan  Stanislav 
almost  feigned  not  to  see  him.  It  was  evident,  too,  that 
Gantovski  had  not  confessed  anything  before  old  Plavitski, 
and  that  he  was  trembling  lest  Pan  Stanislav  might  refer 
to  his  adventure  with  Mashko,  or  tell  it  outright. 

Pan  Stanislav  understood  this  at  once,  as  well  as  the 
advantage  over  "  the  bear "  which  was  given  him  by  his 
silence ;  wishing  to  use  it  in  the  interest  of  Mashko,  he 
was  silent  for  a  time,  but  could  not  forego  the  pleasure  of 
punishing  Gantovski  in  another  way.  He  occupied  himself 
the  whole  evening  with  Marynia,  as  he  had  not  done  since 
Litka's  death.  This  filled  Marynia  with  evident  delight. 
Leaving  Gantovski  to  her  father,  she  walked  with  Pan 
Stanislav  through  the  room  and  talked  confidentially ;  then 
they  sat  under  the  palm,  where  Pan  Stanislav  had  seen 
Pani  Emilia  after  the  funeral,  and  talked  about  her  ap- 
proaching admission  to  the  order  of  Sisters  of  Charity.  To 
Gantovski  it  seemed  at  times  that  only  people  who  were 
betrothed  could  speak  in  that  way  ;  and  he  ■  felt  then  what 
must  be  felt  by  a  soul  not  in  purgatory,  for  in  purgatory  <'i 
soul  has  hope  yet  before  it,  but  what  is  felt  by  a  soul 
when  entering  the  gate  with  the  inscription  "  Lasciafe  ogni 
speranza  "  (Leave  every  hope).  Seeing  them  together  in  this 
way,  he  thought,  too,  that  perhaps  Polanyetski  had  bought 
the  oak  with  the  land  so  as  to  obtain  for  ]Marynia  even  a 
part  of  Kremen,  and  therefore  with  her  will  and  knowledge. 
And  this  being  the  case,  the  hair  rose  on  his  head  at  the 
mere  thought  of  how  he  had  blundered  in  raising  a  scandal 
with  Mashko.    Plavitski,  on  his  part,  hearing  his  half  con- 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  207 

scious,  but  altogether  inappropriate  answers,  amused  him- 
self still  more  at  the  expense  of  the  "  rustic,"  who  on  the 
city  pavement  had  lost  what  remained  of  his  wit.  Pla- 
vitski  considered  himself  now  as  the  model  of  a  man  of 
the  "  capital." 

The  moment  came,  however,  when  the  young  men  were 
left  alone,  for  Marynia  was  occupied  with  tea  in  the  next 
room,  and  Plavitski  had  gone  for  cigars  to  his  study  ;  Pan 
Stanislav  turned  then  to  Gantovski,  — 

" Let  us  go  together  after  tea,"  said  he ;  "I  wish  to 
speak  with  you  touching  your  collision  with  Pan  Mashko." 

"  Of  course,"  answered  Gantovski,  gloomily,  understand- 
ing that  Polanyetski  was  Mashko's  second. 

Meanwhile  they  had  to  remain  for  tea,  and  sit  long 
enough  after  that,  for  Plavitski  did  not  like  to  go  to  bed 
early,  and  summoned  Gantovski  to  a  game  of  chess.  During 
the  play,  ]Marynia  and  Pan  Stanislav  sat  apart  and  conversed 
with  animation,  to  the  heartfelt  torment  of  "  the  bear." 

"  The  arrival  of  Gantovski  must  be  pleasing  to  you," 
said  Pan  Stanislav,  all  at  once,  "  for  it  brings  Kremen  to 
your  mind." 

Astonishment  flashed  over  Marynia's  face  that  he  was 
the  first  to  mention  Kremen.  She  had  supposed  that,  in 
virtue  of  a  tacit  agreement,  he  would  cover  that  question 
■with  silence. 

"  I  think  no  more  now  of  Kremen,"  answered  she,  after  a 
pause. 

This  statement  was  not  true,  for  in  her  heart's  depth  she 
was  sorry  for  the  place  in  which  she  had  been  reared^. — 
the  place  of  her  labor  for  years,  and  of  her  shattered  hopes ; 
but  she  thought  herself  forced  to  speak  thus  by  duty,  and 
by  the  feeling  for  Pan  Stanislav,  which  was  increasing 
continually. 

"Kremen,"  added  she,  with  a  voice  of  some  emotion, 
"  was  the  cause  of  our  earliest  quarrel ;  and  I  wish  now  for 
concord,  concord  forever," 

While  saying  this,  she  looked  into  Pan  Stanislav's  eyes 
■with  a  coquetry  full  of  sweetness,  which  a  bad  woman  is 
able  to  put  on  at  any  time,  but  an  honest  woman  only  when 
she  is  beginning  to  love. 

"  She  is  wonderfully  kind,"  thought  he.  Straightway  he 
added  aloud,  "  You  might  have  a  fabulous  weapon  against 
me,  for  you  might  lead  me  to  perdition  with  kindness." 

"  I  do  not  wish  to  lead  you  to  that,"  replied  she. 


208  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

And  in  sign  that  she  did  not,  she  began  to  shake  her 
dark,  shapely  head  laughingly ;  and  Pan  Stanislav  looked 
at  her  smiling  face,  and  her  mouth  a  trifle  too  large,  and 
said  mentally,  — 

"  Whether  I  love  her,  or  love  her  not,  no  one  attracts 
me  as  she  does." 

In  fact,  she  had  never  occupied  him  and  never  pleased 
him  more,  even  when  he  felt  no  shade  of  doubt  that  he 
loved  her,  and  when  he  was  struggling  with  that  feeling. 
But  at  last  he  took  farewell  of  her,  for  it  had  grown  late ; 
and  after  a  while  he  and  Gantovski  found  themselves  on 
the  street. 

Fan  Stanislav  who  never  had  been  able  to  guard  himself 
from  impulsiveness,  stopped  the  unfortunate  "bear,"  and 
asked  almost  angrily,  — 

"Did  you  know  that  it  was  I  who  bought  the  oak  at 
Kremen  ?  " 

"  I  did,"  answered  Gantovski ;  "  for  your  agent,  that  man 
who  says  that  he  is  descended  from  Tartars  —  I  forget 
what  his  name  is  —  was  at  my  house  in  Yalbrykov,  and  told 
me  that  it  was  you." 

"  Why,  then,  did  you  make  the  scandal  with  Pan 
Mashko.  not  with  me  ?" 

"  Do  not  push  me  to  the  wall  so,"  answered  Gantovski, 
"  for  I  do  not  like  it.  I  raised  the  scandal  with  him,  not 
with  you,  because  the  Plavitskis  have  nothing  to  do  with 
you;  but  that  man  is  obliged  to  pay  them  yearly  from 
Kremen  the  amount  he  has  engaged  to  pay,  and  if  he  ruins 
Kremen,  he  will  have  nothing  to  pay  from.  If  you  wished 
to  know  why  I  attacked  him,  you  know  now." 

Pan  Stanislav  had  to  confess  in  his  soul  that  there  was 
a  certain  justice  in  Gantovski's  answer ;  hence  he  began 
the  conversation  at  once  from  another  side,  — 

"  Pan  Mashko  has  begged  me  to  be  his  second,  that 's  why 
I  interfere  in  this  question.  I  shall  call  on  you  to-morrow 
as  a  second ;  but  as  a  private  man,  and  a  relative,  though  a 
distant  one,  of  Pan  Plavitski,  I  can  tell  you  to-day  only 
this, — that  you  have  rendered  the  poorest  service  to  Pan 
Plavitski,  and  if  he  and  his  daughter  are  left  without  a 
morsel  of  bread,  they  will  have  you  to  thank  for  it.  This 
is  the  truth ! " 

Gantovski's  eyes  became  perfectly  round. 

"  Without  a  morsel  of  bread  ?  They  will  thank  me 
for  it  ?  " 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  209 

"  That  is  the  position,"  repeated  Pan  Stanislav.  "  But 
listen  carefully.  Without  reference  to  the  result  of  the 
scandal,  the  circumstances  are  such  that  it  may  have  the 
4uost  fatal  results.  I  say  this  to  you,  on  ray  word:  you 
have,  perhaps,  ruined  Pan  Plavitski,  and  taken  from  him 
and  his  daughter  the  way,  or  rather  the  means,  of  living." 

If  Gantovski  really  did  not  like  to  be  pressed  to  the  wall, 
it  was  time  for  him  then  to  show  his  dislike ;  but  Gantov- 
ski had  lost  his  head  utterly,  and  stood  in  amazement, 
with  open  mouth,  unable  to  find  an  answer ;  and  only  after 
a  time  did  he  begin,  — 

"  What  ?  How  ?  In  what  way  ?  Be  sure  that  it  will 
not  come  to  that,  even  if  I  have  to  give  them  Yalbrykov." 

"  Pan  Gantovski,"  interrupted  Pan  Stanislav,  "  it  is  a  pity 
to  lose  words.  I  have  known  your  neighborhood  from  the 
time  I  was  a  little  boy.  What  is  Yalbrykov,  and  what  have 
you  in  Yalbrykov  ?  " 

It  was  true,  Yalbrykov  was  a  poor  little  village,  with 
nine  vlokas  of  land  ;  and,  besides,  Gantovski.  had,  as  is  usual, 
inherited  debts  higher  than  his  ears ;  so  his  hands  dropped 
at  his  sides.  It  occurred  to  him,  however,  that  perhaps 
matters  did  not  stand  as  Pan  Stanislav  represented  them  ; 
and  he  grasped  at  this  thought  as  at  a  plank  of  salvation. 

"  I  do  not  understand  what  you  say,"  said  he.  "  God  is 
my  witness  that  I  would  choose  my  own  ruin  rather  than 
injure  the  Plavitskis ;  and  know  this,  that  I  would  be  glad 
to  twist  the  neck  of  Pan  Mashko ;  but,  if  it  is  necessary,  — 
if  it  is  a  question  of  the  Plavitskis,  —  then  let  the  devils 
take  me  first ! 

"  Immediately  after  the  scandal,  I  went  to  Pan  Yamish, 
who  is  here  at  the  session,  and  told  him  all.  He  said  that 
I  had  committed  a  folly,  and  scolded  me,  it  is  true.  If  it 
were  a  qiiestion  of  my  skin,  it  would  be  nothing,  —  I  would 
not  move  a  finger ;  but,  since  it  touches  something  else,  I 
will  do  what  Pan  Yamish  tells  me,  even  should  a  thunder- 
bolt split  me  next  moment.  Pan  Yamish  lives  at  the 
Hotel  Saxe,  and  so  do  I." 

They  parted  on  this ;  and  Gantovski  went  to  his  hotel, 
cursing  Mashko,  himself,  and  Polanyetski.  He  felt  that  it 
must  be  as  Polanyetski  had  said,— that  some  incurable 
misfortune  had  happened,  —  and  that  he  had  wrought 
grievous  injustice  against  that  same  Panna  Marynia  for 
whom  he  would  have  given  his  last  drop  of  blood ;  he  felt 
that  if  there  had  been  for  him  any  hope,  he  had  destroyed  it 

14 


210  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

completely.  Plavitski  would  close  his  door  on  him.  Panna 
Marynia  would  marry  Polanyetski,  unless  he  did  n't  want 
her.  But  who  would  not  want  her  ?  And,  at  the  same  time, 
Pan  Gantovski  saw  clearly  that  among  those  who  might  ask 
her  hand,  he  was  the  last  man  she  would  marry.  "  What 
have  I  ?  Nothing,"  said  he  to  himself ;  "  that  measly  Yal- 
brykov,  nothing  more,  —  neither  good  name  nor  money. 
Every  man  knows  something;  I  alone  know  nothing. 
Every  one  means  something ;  I  alone  mean  nothing.  That 
Polanyetski  has  learning  and  money ;  but  that  I  love  her 
better,  —  the  devils  to  me  for  that,  and  as  much  to  her,  if  I 
am  such  an  idiot  that  through  loving  I  harm  instead  of 
helping  her." 

Pan  Stanislav,  on  his  way  home,  thought  of  Gantovski  in 
the  same  way,  and  in  general  had  not  for  him  even  one 
spark  of  sympathy.  At  home  he  found  Mashko,  who  had 
been  waiting  an  hour,  and  who  said,  as  greeting,  — 

"  Kresovski  will  be  the  other  second." 

Pan  Stanislav  mq,de  somewhat  of  a  wry  face,  and  an- 
swered, — 

"  I  have  seen  Gantovski." 

"And  what?" 

«  He  is  a  fool." 

"  He  is  that,  first  of  all.  Hast  thou  spoken  to  him  in  my 
name  ?  " 

"Not  in  thy  name.  As  a  relative  of  Pan  Plavitski,  I 
told  him  that  he  had  given  Pan  Plavitski  the  worst  service 
in  the  world." 

"  You  gave  no  explanations  ?  " 

"  None.  Hear  me,  Mashko :  it  is  a  question  for  thee  of 
complete  satisfaction  ;  it  is  no  point  for  me  that  ye  should 
shoot  each  other.  In  virtue  of  what  I  have  told  Gantovski, 
he  is  ready  to  agree  to  all  thy  conditions.  Happily,  he  has 
committed  himself  to  Yamish.  Yamish  is  a  mild,  prudent 
man,  who  understands  also  that  Gantovski  has  acted  like  an 
idiot,  and  will  be  glad  to  give  him  a  lesson." 

"  Very  well,"  said  Mashko.  "  Give  me  a  pen  and  piece 
of  paper." 

"  Thou  hast  them  at  the  desk." 

Mashko  sat  down  and  wrote.  When  he  had  finished, 
he  gave  the  written  sheet  to  Pan  Stanislav,  who  read  as 
follows :  — 

"I  testify  this  day  that  I  attacked  Pan  Mashko  while  I  was  drunk, 
in  a  state  of  unconsciousness,  and  without  giving  myself  account  of 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  211 

what  I  was  saying.  To-day,  having  become  sober,  in  presence  of 
my  seconds,  the  seconds  of  Pan  Mashko,  and  the  persons  who  were 
present  at  the  scene,  I  acknowledge  my  act  as  rude  and  senseless, 
and  turn  with  the  greatest  sorrow  and  contrition  to  the  good  sense 
and  kindness  of  Pan  ilashko,  begging  him  for  forgiveness,  and 
acknowledging  publicly  that  his  conduct  was  and  is  in  everything 
above  the  judgment  of  men  like  me.'' 

"  Gantovski  is  to  declaim  this,  and  then  subscribe  it," 
said  Mashko. 

"This  is  devilishly  unmerciful;  no  one  will  agree  to  it," 
said  Pan  Stanislav. 

"  Dost  thou  acknowledge  that  this  fool  has  permitted  to 
himself  something  unheard  of  with  reference  to  me?" 

"I  do." 

"And  remember  what  result  this  adventure  may  have 
for  me?" 

"It  is  impossible  to  know  that." 

"Well,  I  know;  but  I  will  tell  thee  only  this  much, — 
those  ladies  will  regret  from  their  souls  that  they  are  bound 
to  me,  and  will  use  every  pretext  which  will  excuse  them 
before  society.  That  is  certain;  I  am  ruined  almost 
beyond  rescue." 

"The  devil!" 

"Thou  canst  understand  now  that  what  is  troubling  me 
must  be  ground  out  on  some  one,  and  that  Gantovski  must 
pay  me  for  the  injustice  in  one  form  or  another." 

"Xeither  have  I  any  tenderness  for  him.  Let  it  be  so," 
said  Pan  Stanislav,  shrugging  his  shoulders. 

"Kresovski  will  come  for  thee  to-morrow  morning  at 
nine." 

"Very  well." 

"Then,  till  we  meet  again.  By  the  way,  should  you 
see  Plavitski  to-morrow,  tell  him  that  his  relative,  Panna 
Ploshovski,  fi'om  whom  he  expected  an  inheritance,  haa 
died  in  Rome.  Her  will  was  here  with  her  manager, 
Podvoyni,  and  is  to  be  opened  to-morrow." 

"Plavitski  knows  of  that  already,  for  she  died  five  days 
ago." 

Pan  Stanislav  was  left  alone.  For  a  certain  time  he 
thought  of  his  money  without  being  able  to  foresee  a 
method  by  which  he  might  receive  it  from  the  bankrupt 
Mashko,  and  the  thought  disturbed  him.  He  remembered, 
however,  that  the  debt  could  not  be  removed  from  the  mort- 
gage on  Kremen  until  it  was  paid  in  full;  that  in  this  last 


212  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

case  he  would  continue  as  he  had  been  previously,  —  a 
creditor  of  Kremen.  Kremen,  it  is  true,  was  not  a  much 
better  debtor  than  Mashko,  hence  this  was  no  great  con- 
solation; but  for  the  time  he  was  forced  to  be  satisfied 
with  it.  Later  on,  something  else  also  came  to  his  head. 
He  remembered  Litka,  Pani  Emilia,  Marynia,  and  he  was 
struck  by  this,  — how  the  world  of  women,  a  world  of  feel- 
ings purely,  a  world  whose  great  interest  lies  in  living  in 
the  happiness  of  those  near  us,  differs  from  the  world  of 
men,  a  world  full  of  rivalry,  struggles,  duels,  encounters, 
angers,  torments,  and  efforts  for  acquiring  property.  He 
recognized  at  that  moment  what  he  had  not  felt  before,  — 
that  if  there  be  solace,  repose,  and  happiness  on  earth, 
they  are  to  be  sought  from  a  loving  woman.  This  feeling 
was  directly  opposed  to  his  philosophy  of  the  last  few 
days,  hence  it  disturbed  him.  But,  in  comparing  further 
those  two  worlds,  he  could  not  withhold  the  acknowledg- 
ment that  that  feminine  and  loving  world  has  its  founda- 
tion and  reason  of  existence. 

If  Pan  Stanislav  had  been  more  intimate  with  the  Holy 
Scriptures,  beyond  doubt  the  words,  "  Mary  has  chosen  the 
better  part, "  would  have  occurred  to  him. 


CHILDREN  OF  THE   SOIL.  213 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

Kresovski  was  almost  an  hour  late  on  the  following 
morning.  He  was,  according  to  a  noted  description  among 
us,  one  of  the  administrators  of  fresh  air  in  the  city,  — that 
is,  one  of  the  men  who  do  nothing.  He  had  a  name  suffi- 
ciently famous,  and  had  squandered  rather  a  large  fortune. 
On  these  two  foundations  he  lived,  he  went  everywhere, 
and  was  recognized  universally  as  a  man  of  good  breeding. 
How  the  above  titles  can  provide  a  man  everything  is 
the  secret  of  great  cities;  it  is  enough  that  not  only 
Kresovski's  position  was  recognized  and  certain,  but  he 
was  considered  a  person  to  whom  it  was  possible  to  apply 
with  safety  in  delicate  questions.  In  courts  of  honor  he 
was  employed  as  an  arbiter;  in  duels,  as  a  second.  High 
financial  circles  were  glad  to  invite  him  to  dinners,  wed- 
dings, christenings,  and  solemnities  of  that  sort,  since  he 
had  a  patrician  baldness,  and  a  countenance  extremely 
Polish;  hence  he  ornamented  a  table  perfectly. 

He  was  a  man  in  the  essence  of  things  greatly  disen- 
chanted with  people,  a  little  consumptive,  and  very  satiri- 
cal. He  possessed,  however,  a  certain  share  of  humor, 
which  permitted  him  to  see  the  laughable  side  of  things, 
especially  of  very  small  things;  in  this  he  resembled 
Bukatski  somewhat,  and  made  sport  of  his  own  fault-find- 
ing. He  permitted  others  to  make  sport  of  it  also,  but 
within  measure.  When  the  measure  was  passed,  he  straight- 
ened himself  suddenly,  and  squeezed  people  to  excess;  in 
view  of  this  he  was  looked  on  as  dangerous.  It  was 
said  of  him  that  in  a  number  of  cases  he  had  found  courage 
where  many  would  have  lacked  it,  and  that,  in  general,  he 
could  "cariy  his  nose  high."  He  did  not  respect  any  one 
nor  anything,  except  his  own  really  very  noble  physiog- 
nomy; time,  especially,  he  did  not  respect,  for  he  was 
late  always  and  everywhere.  Coming  in  to  Pan  Stanislav's 
on  this  occasion,  he  began  at  once,  after  the  greeting,  to 
explain  his  tardiness,  — 

"Have  you  not  noticed,"  asked  he,  ''that  if  a  man  is  in 
a  real  hurry,  and  very  anxious  to  hasten,  the  things  he 
needs  most  vanish  purposely?    The  servant  seeks  his  hat, 


214  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

—  it  is  gone;  looks  for  his  overshoes, —  they  are  not  there  y 
hunts  for  his  pocket-book,  —  it  is  not  to  be  had.  I  will 
wager  that  this  is  so  always." 

"It  happens  thus,"  said  Pan  Stanislav. 

''  I  have,  iu  fact,  invented  a  cure.  When  something  has 
gone  from  me  as  if  it  had  fallen  into  water,  I  sit  down, 
smile,  and  say  aloud:  *I  love  to  lose  a  thing  in  this  way,  I 
do  passionately; '  my  man  looks  for  it,  becomes  lively,  stirs 
about,  passes  the  time,  — that  is  very  wholesome  and  agree- 
able. And  what  will  you  say?  Right  away  the  lost  article 
is  found." 

"A  patent  might  be  taken  for  such  an  invention," 
answered  Fan  Stanislav j  "but  let  us  speak  of  Mashko's 
affair." 

"  We  must  go  to  Yamish.  Mashko  has  sent  me  a  paper 
which  he  has  written  for  Gantovski.  He  is  unwilling  to 
change  a  word;  but  it  is  an  impossible  statement,  too  harsh, 

—  it  cannot  be  accepted.  I  understand  that  a  duel  is  wait- 
ing for  us,  nothing  else;  I  see  no  other  outcome." 

"Uantovski  has  intrusted  himself  to  Pan  Yamish  in 
everything,  and  he  will  do  all  that  Yamish  commands. 
But  Yamish,  to  begin  with,  is  also  indignant  at  Gantovski; 
secondly,  he  is  a  sick  man,  mild,  calm,  so  that  who  knows 
that  he  may  not  accept  such  conditions." 

"Pan  Yamish  is  an  old  dotard,"  said  Kresovski;  "but 
let  us  go,  for  it  is  late." 

They  went  out.  After  a  while  the  sleigh  halted  before 
the  hotel.  Pan  Yamish  was  Avaiting  for  them,  but  he 
received  them  in  his  dressing-gown,  for  he  was  really  in 
poor  health.  Kresovski,  looking  at  his  intelligent,  but 
careworn  and  swollen  face,  thought,  — 

"He  is  really  ready  to  agree  to  everything." 

"Sit  down,  gentlemen,"  said  Pan  Yamish;  "I  came  only 
three  days  ago,  and  though  I  do  not  feel  well,  I  am  glad, 
for  perhaps  the  affair  may  be  settled.  Believe  me  that  I 
was  the  first  to  rub  the  ears  of  my  water-burner." 

Here  he  shrugged  his  shoulders,  and,  turning  to  Pan 
Stanislav,   inquired,  — 

"What  are  the  Plavitskis  doing?  I  have  not  visited 
them  yet,  though  I  long  to  see  my  golden  Marynia." 

"Panna  Marynia  is  well,"  answered  Pan  Stanislav. 

"But  the  old  man?" 

"  A  few  days  ago  a  distant  relative  of  his  died,  —  a  very 
wealthy  woman;  he  is  counting,  therefore,  on  an  inherit- 
ance.    He  told  me  so  yesterday;  but  I  hear  that  she  has 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  215 

left  all  her  property  for  benevolent  purposes.  The  will  is 
to  be  opened  to-day  or  to-morrow." 

"May  God  have  inspired  her  to  leave  something  to 
Marynia!  But  let  us  come  to  our  affair.  I  need  not  tell 
you,  gentlemen,  that  it  is  our  duty  to  finish  it  amicably, 
if  we  can." 

Kresovski  bowed.  Introductions  like  this,  which  he  had 
heard  in  his  life  God  knows  how  often,  annoyed  him. 

"We  are  profoundly  convinced  of  this  duty." 

"So  I  had  hoped,"  answered  Yamish,  benevolently.  "I 
confess  myself  that  Pan  Gantovski  had  not  the  least  right 
to  act  as  he  did.  I  recognize  even  as  just  that  he  should 
be  punished  for  it;  hence  I  shall  persuade  him  to  all,  even 
very  considerable,  concessions,  fitted  to  assure  proper  satis- 
faction to  Fan  Mashko." 

Kresovski  took  from  his  pocket  the  folded  paper,  arfd 
gave  it,  with  a  smile,  to  Pan  Yamish,  saying,  — 

"Pan  Mashko  demands  nothing  more  than  that  Pan 
Gantovski  should  read  this  little  document,  to  begin  with, 
in  presence  of  his  own  and  Pan  Mashko's  seconds,  as  well 
as  in  presence  of  Pan  Mashko's  subordinates,  who  were 
present  at  the  scene,  and  then  write  under  it  his  own 
respected  name." 

Pan  Yamish,  finding  his  spectacles  among  his  papers, 
put  them  on  his  nose,  and  began  to  read.  But  as  he  read, 
his  face  grew  red,  then  pale ;  after  that  he  began  to  pant. 
Pan  Stanislav  and  Kresovski  could  scarcely  believe  their 
eyes  that  that  was  the  same  Pan  Yamish  who  a  moment 
before  was  ready  for  every  concession. 

"Gentlemen,"  said  he,  with  a  broken  voice,  "Pan  Gan- 
tovski has  acted  like  a  water-burner,  like  a  thoughtless 
man;  but  Pan  Gantovski  is  a  noble,  and  this  is  what  I 
answer  in  his  name  to  Pan  Mashko." 

"When  he  said  this,  he  tore  the  paper  in  four  pieces,  and 
threw  them  on  the  floor. 

The  thing  had  not  been  foreseen.  Kresovski  began  to 
meditate  whether  Yamish  had  not  offended  his  dignity  of 
a  second  by  this  act,  and  in  one  moment  his  face  began  to 
grow  icy,  and  contract  like  that  of  an  angry  dog;  but  Pan 
Stanislav,  who  loved  Pan  Yamish,  was  pleased  at  his 
indignation. 

"  Pan  Mashko  is  injured  in  such  an  unusual  degree  that 
he  cannot  ask  for  less ;  but  Pan  Kresovski  and  I  foresaw 
your  answer,  and  it  only  increases  the  respect  which  we 
have  for  you." 


216  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

Pan  Yamish  sat  down,  and,  being  somewhat  asthmatic, 
breathed  rather  heavily  for  a  time;  then  he  grew  quiet, 
and  said,  — 

"I  might  offer  you  an  apology  on  the  part  of  Pan  Gan- 
tov'ski,  but  in  other  expressions  altogether;  I  see,  however, 
that  we  should  be  losing  time  merely.  Let  us  talk  at  once 
of  satisfaction,  weapon  in  hand.  Pan  Vilkovski,  Pan 
(lantovski's  other  second,  will  be  here  soon;  and  if  you 
can  wait,  we  will  tix  the  conditions  immediately." 

"That  is  called  going  straight  to  the  object,"  said 
Kresovski,  who  quite  agreed  with  Pan  Yamish. 

"But  from  necessity, — and  sad  necessity,"  replied 
Yamish. 

"I  must  be  in  my  oflBce  at  eleven,"  said  Pan  Stanislav, 
looking  at  his  watch;  "but,  if  you  permit,  I  will  run  in 
here  about  one  o'clock,  to  look  over  the  conditions  and  sign 
them." 

"  That  will  do.  We  cannot  draw  up  conditions  that  will 
rouse  people's  laughter,  that  I  understand  and  inform  you; 
but  I  count  on  this,  — that  you,  gentlemen,  will  not  make 
them  too  stringent." 

"  I  have  no  thought,  I  assure  you,  of  quarrelling  to  risk 
another  man's  life."  So  saying.  Pan  Stanislav  started  for 
his  oflftce,  where,  in  fact,  a  number  of  affairs  of  consider- 
able importance  were  awaiting  him,  and  which,  in  Bigiel's 
absence,  he  had  to  settle  alone.  In  the  afternoon  he  signed 
the  conditions  of  the  duel,  which  were  serious,  but  not  too 
stringent.  He  went  then  to  dinner,  for  he  hoped  to  find 
Mashko  in  the  restaurant.  Mashko  had  gone  to  Pani 
Kraslavski's;  and  the  first  person  whom  Pan  Stanislav 
saw  was  Plavitski,  dressed,  as  usual,  with  care,  shaven, 
buttoned,  fresh-looking,  but  gloomy  as  night. 

"What  is  my  respected  uncle  doing  here?"  asked  Pan 
Stanislav. 

"  When  I  have  trouble,  I  do  not  dine  at  home  usually, 
and  this  to  avoid  afflicting  Marynia,"  answered  Plavitski. 
"I  go  somewhere;  and  as  thou  seest,  the  wing  of  a 
chicken,  a  spoonful  of  preserve,  is  all  that  I  need.  Take 
a  seat  with  me,  if  thou  hast  no  pleasanter  company." 

"  What  has  happened?" 

"Old  traditions  are  perishing;  that  has  happened." 

"Bah !  this  is  not  a  misfortune  personal  to  uncle." 

Plavitski  glanced  at  him  gloomily  and  solemnly.  "To- 
day," said  he,  "a  will  has  been  opened." 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  217 

"Well,  and  what?" 

"  And  what?  People  are  saying  now  throughout  War- 
saw :  '  She  remembered  her  most  distant  relatives ! '  Nicely 
did  she  remember  them!  Marynia  has  an  inheritance,  has 
she?  Knowest  thou  how  much?  Four  hundred  rubles  a 
year  for  life.  And  the  woman  was  a  millionnaire !  An 
inheritance  like  that  may  be  left  to  a  servant,  not  to  a 
relative." 

"But  to  uncle?" 

"Nothing  to  me.  She  left  j&fteen  thousand  rubles  to 
her  manager,  but  mentioned  no  syllable  about  me." 

"What  is  to  be  done?" 

"  Old  traditions  are  perishing.  How  many  people  gained 
estates  formerly  through  wills,  and  why  was  it?  Because 
love  and  solidarity  existed  in  families." 

"  Even  to-day  I  know  people  on  whose  heads  thousands 
have  fallen  from  wills." 

"True,  there  are  such,  — there  are  many  of  them;  but  I 
am  not  of  the  number." 

Plavitski  rested  his  head  on  his  hand,  and  from  his 
mouth  issued  something  in  the  style  of  a  monologue. 

"Yes,  always  somewhere  somebody  leaves  something  to 
somebody."  Here  he  sighed,  and  after  a  while  added, 
"But  to  me  no  one  leaves  anything,  anywhere,  at  any 
time." 

Suddenly  an  idea  equally  cruel  and  empty  occurred  to 
Pan  Stanislav  on  a  sudden  to  cheer  up  Plavitski;  there- 
fore he  said,  — 

"  Ai !  she  died  in  Rome;  but  the  will  here  was  written 
long  ago,  and  before  that  one  there  was  another  altogether 
different,  as  people  tell  me.  Who  knows  that  in  Rome  a 
little  codicil  may  not  be  found,  and  that  my  dear  uncle 
will  not  wake  up  a  millionnaire  some  da}''?" 

"That  day  will  not  come,"  answered  Plavitski.  Still 
the  words  had  moved  him;  he  began  to  gaze  at  Polanyetski, 
to  squirm  as  if  the  chair  on  which  he  was  sitting  were 
a  bed  of  torture,  and  said,  at  last,  "And  you  think  that 
possible?" 

"  I  see  in  it  nothing  impossible,"  answered  Pan  Stanislav, 
with  real  roguish  seriousness. 

"If  the  wish  of  Providence." 

"And  that  may  be." 

Plavitski  looked  around  the  hall ;  they  were  alone.  He 
pushed  back  his  chair  on  a  sudden,  and,  pointing  to  his 
shirt-bosom,  said,  — 


218  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

"Come  here,  my  boy  I" 

Pan  Stanislav  inclined  his  head,  which  Plavitski  kissed 
twice,  saying  at  the  same  time,  with  emotion, — 

"Thou  hast  consoled  me;  thou  hast  strengthened  me. 
Let  it  be  as  God  wills,  but  thou  hast  strengthened  me.  1 
confess  to  thee  now  that  I  wrote  to  Fauna  Ploshovski  only 
to  remind  her  that  we  were  living.  I  asked  her  when  the 
rent  term  of  one  of  her  estates  would  end;  I  had  not,  as 
thou  knowest,  the  intention  to  take  that  place,  but  the 
excuse  was  a  good  one.  May  God  reward  thee  for  strength- 
enin<^  me  !  The  present  will  may  have  been  made  before 
my  letter.  She  went  to  Kome  later ;  on  the  way  she  must 
have  thought  of  my  letter,  and  therefore  of  us ;  and,  to  my 
thinking,  that  is  possible.     God  reward  thee!  " 

After  a  while  his  face  cleared  up  completely ;  all  at  once 
he  laid  his  hand  on  Pan  Stanislav's  knee,  and,  clicking 
with  his  tongue,  cried, — 

"Knowest  what,  my  boy?  Perhaps  in  a  happy  hour 
thou  hast  spoken;  and  might  we  not  drink  a  small  bottle 
of  Mouton-Rothschild  on  account  of  this  codicil?" 

"God  knows  that  I  cannot,"  said  Pan  Stanislav,  who 
had  begun  to  be  a  little  ashamed  of  what  he  had  said  to 
the  old  man.     "  I  cannot,  and  I  will  not." 

"Thou  must." 

*"Pon  my  word,  I  cannot.  I  have  my  hands  full  of  work, 
and  I  will  not  befog  my  head  for  anything  in  the  world." 

"A  stubborn  goat,  — a  regular  goat!  Then  I  will  drink 
half  a  bottle  to  the  happy  hour." 

So  he  ordered  it,  and  asked,  — 

"  What  hast  thou  to  do?  " 

"Various  things.  Immediately  after  dinner  I  must  be 
with  Professor  Vaskovski." 

"What  kind  of  a  figure  is  that  Vaskovski?" 

"In  fact,"  said  Pan  Stanislav,  "an  inheritance  has  fallen 
to  him  from  his  brother,  who  was  a  miner, — an  inherit- 
ance, and  a  considerable  one.  But  he  gives  all  to  the 
poor." 

"He  gives  to  the  poor,  but  goes  to  a  good  restaurant. 
I  like  such  philanthropists.  If  I  had  anything  to  give  the 
poor,  I  would  deny  myself  everything." 

"He  was  ailing  a  long  time,  and  the  doctor  ordered  him 
to  eat  plentifully.  But  even  in  that  case  he  eats  only 
what  is  cheap.  .  He  lives  in  a  poor  chamber,  and  rears 
birds.      Next  door  he  has  two  large  rooms;  and  knowest, 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  219 

uncle,  who  passes  the  night  in  thein?     Childi-en  whom  he 
picks  up  on  the  street." 

"It  seemed  to  me  right  away  that  he  had  something 
here,"  said  Flavitski,  tapping  his  forehead  with  his 
finger. 

Pan  Stanislav  did  not  find  Vaskovski  at  home;  hence 
after  an  interview  with  Mashko  he  dropped  in  to  see 
Marynia  about  five  in  the  afternoon.  His  conscience  was 
gnawing  liim  for  the  nonsense  he  had  spoken  to  Plavitski. 
"  The  old  man,"  said  he  to  himself,  "  will  drink  costly 
wines  on  account  of  that  codicil;  while  to  my  thinking 
they  are  living  beyond  their  means  already.  The  joke 
should  not  last  too  long." 

He  found  Marynia  with  her  hat  on.  She  was  going  to 
the  Bigiels',  but  received  him,  and  since  he  had  not  come 
for  a  long  time,  he  remained. 

"  I  congratulate  you  on  the  inheritance,"  said  he. 
"I  am  glad  myself,"  replied  she;  "it  is  something  sure, 
and  in  our  position  that  is  important.     For  that  matter,  I 
should  like  to  be  as  rich  as  possible." 
"Why  so?" 

"  You  remember  what  you  said  once,  that  you  would  like 
to  have  enough  to  establish  a  manufactory,  and  not  carry 
on  a  mercantile  house.  I  remember  that ;  and  since  every 
one  has  personal  wishes,  I  should  like  to  have  much,  much 
money." 

Then,  thinking  that  she  might  have  said  too  much,  and 
said  it  too  definitely,  she  began  to  straighten  the  fold  of 
her  dress,  so  as  to  incline  her  head. 

"  I  came,  for  another  thing,  to  beg  your  pardon,"  said  Pan 
Stanislav.  "  To-day  at  dinner  I  told  a  pack  of  nonsense  to 
Pan  Plavitski,  saying  that  Panna  Ploshovski  had  changed 
her  will,  perhaps,  and  left  him  a  whole  estate.  Beyond  my 
expectation  he  took  it  seriously.  I  should  not  wish  to  have 
him  deceive  himself ;  and  if  you  will  permit  me,  I  will  goat 
once  to  him  and  explain  the  matter  somehow. " 

"I  have  explained  it  to  him  already,"  said  Marynia, 
smiling ;  "  he  scolded  me,  and  that  greatly.  You  see  liow 
you  have  involved  matters.  You  have  cause  indeed  to  beg 
pardon." 

"  Therefore  I  beg." 

And,  seizing  her  hand,  he  began  to  cover  it  with  kisses  ; 
and  she  left  it  with  him  completely,  repeating  as  if  in 
sarcasm,  but  with  emotion,  — 


220  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

"  Ah,  the  wicked  Pan  Stas,  the  wicked  Pan  Stas ! " 
That  day  Pan  Stanislav  felt  on  his  lips  till  he  fell  asleep 
the  warmth  of  Marynia's  hand ;  and  he  thought  neither  of 
Mashko  nor  Gantovski,  but  repeated  to  himself  with  great 
persistence,  — 

*'  It  is  time  to  decide  this." 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  221 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

Kresovski,  with  a  doctor  and  a  case  containing  pistols, 
entered  one  carriage,  Pan  Stanislav  with  Mashko  another, 
and  the  two  moved  toward  Bielany.  The  day  was  clear  and 
frosty,  full  of  rosy  haze  near  the  ground.  The  wheels 
turned  with  a  whining  on  the  frozen  snow ;  the  horses  were 
steaming,  and  covered  with  frost;  on  the  trees  abundant 
snow  was  resting. 

"  Frost  that  is  frost,"  said  Mashko.  "  Our  fingers  will 
freeze  to  the  triggers.  And  the  delight  of  removing  one's 
furs !  " 

"  Then  be  reconciled ;  make  no  delay.  My  dear  man,  tell 
Kresovski  to  begin  the  work  straightway." 

Here  Mashko  wiped  his  damp  eye-glass,  and  added, 
"  Before  we  reach  tlie  place,  the  sun  will  be  high,  and  there 
will  be  a  great  glitter  from  the  snow." 

"  Finish  quickly,  then,"  answered  Pan  Stanislav.  "Since 
Kresovski  is  in  time,  there  will  be  no  waiting  for  the  others; 
they  are  used  to  early  rising." 

"  Dost  know  what  makes  me  anxious  at  this  moment  ?  " 
asked  Mashko.  "  This,  that  there  is  in  the  world  one  factor 
with  which  no  one  reckons  in  his  plans  and  actions,  and 
through  which  everything  may  be  shattered,  involved,  and 
ruined,  —  human  stupidity.  Imagine  me  with  ten  times  the 
mind  that  I  have,  and  unoccupied  with  the  interests  of  Pan 
Mashko.  Imagine  me,  for  example,  some  great  statesman, 
some  Bismark  or  Cavour,  who  needs  to  gain  property  to 
carry  out  his  plans,  and  who  calculates  every  step,  every 
word,  —  what  then  ?  A  beast  like  this  comes  along,  stupid 
beyond  human  reckoning,  and  carries  all  away  on  his  horns. 
That  is  something  fabulous !  Whether  this  fellow  will 
shoot  me  or  not,  is  the  least  account  now ;  but  the  brute  has 
spoiled  my  life-work." 

"  Who  can  calculate  such  a  thing  ?  "  said  Pan  Stanislav. 
"  It  is  as  if  a  roof  were  to  fall  on  thy  head." 

"  For  that  very  reason  rage  seizes  me." 

"  But  as  to  his  shooting  thee,  don't  think  of  that." 

Mashko  recovered,  wiped  his  glass  again,  and  began,  — 


222  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

"  My  dear,  I  see  that  from  the  moment  of  our  starting 
thou  hast  been  observing  me  a  little,  and  now  't  is  thy  wish 
to  add  to  my  courage.  That  is  natural.  On  my  part,  I  must 
calm  thee  ;  and  on  my  word  I  give  assurance  that  I  will  not 
sliame  thee.  I  feel  a  little  disquiet,  —  that  is  simple  ;  but 
knowest  why  ?  That  which  constitutes  danger  of  life,  the 
tiring  at  one,  is  nothing.  Let  weapons  be  given  me  and  him  ; 
let  us  into  the  Avoods.  God  knows  that  I  should  tire  away  at 
that  idiot  half  a  day,  and  meet  his  shots  half  a  day.  I  have 
had  a  duel  already,  and  know  what  it  is.  It  is  the  comedy 
tliat  disconcerts  one,  the  preparations,  the  seconds,  the  idea 
that  men  will  look  at  thee,  and  the  fear  touching  how  thou  wilt 
appear,  how  thou  wilt  acquit  thyself.  It  is  simply  a  public 
exhibition,  and  a  question  of  self-love,  —  nothing  more.  For 
nervous  natures  a  genuine  trial.  But  I  am  not  over  nervous. 
I  understand,  also,  that  in  this  regard  I  am  superior  to  my 
opponent,  for  I  am  more  accustomed  to  men.  'T  is  true 
such  an  ass  has  less  imagination,  and  is  not  able  to  think  ; 
for  example,  how  he  would  look  as  a  corpse ;  how  he  would 
begin  to  decay,  and  fco  on.  Still  I  shall  be  able  to  command 
myself  better.  Besides,  I  will  tell  thee  another  thing: 
Philosophy  is  philosophy ;  but  in  matters  like  this  the 
decisive  elements  are  temperament  and  passion.  This  duel 
will  not  bring  me  to  anything,  will  not  save  me  in  any  re- 
gard ;  on  the  contrary,  it  may  bring  me  to  trouble.  But 
still  I  cannot  deny  it  to  myself,  so  much  indignation  has 
collected  in  my  soul,  I  so  hate  that  idiot,  and  would  like  so 
to  crush  and  trample  him,  —  that  I  cease  to  reason.  Thou 
mayest  be  certain  of  one  thing,  —  that  as  soon  as  I  see  the 
face  of  the  blockhead  I  shall  forget  disquiet,  forget  the 
comedy,  and  see  only  him." 

"  I  understand  tliat  well  enough,"  said  Pan  Stanislav. 
And  the  spots  on  Mashko's  face  increased  and  became 
blue  from  tlie  frost,  wherewith  he  had  a  look  as  stubborn 
as  it  was  ugly. 

Meanwhile  they  arrived.  Almost  sim  ultaneously  squeaked 
the  carriage  bringing  Gantovski,  with  Yamish  and  Vilkov- 
ski.  When  they  alighted,  these  gentlemen  saluted  their  op- 
ponents ;  then  the  seven,  counting  the  doctor,  withdrew  to 
the  depth  of  the  forest  to  a  place  selected  on  the  preceding 
day  by  Kresovski. 

The   drivers,   looking   at   the   seven   overcoats    outlined 
strangely  on  the  snow,  began  to  mutter  to  themselves. 
"  Do  you  know  what  is  going  to  happen  ?  "  asked  one. 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  223 

"  Is  it  ray  first  time  ?  "  answered  the  other. 

"  Let  the  world  grow  polite ;  let  fools  go  to  fight ! " 

Meanwhile  the  seven,  clattering  on  in  their  heavy  over- 
shoes, and  blowing  lines  of  white  steam  from  their  nostrils, 
went  toward  the  other  end  of  the  forest.  On  the  way, 
Yamish,  somewhat  against  the  rules  binding  in  such  cases, 
approached  Pan  Stanislav,  and  began,  — 

"  I  wished  sincerely  that  my  man  should  beg  pardon  of 
Pan  Mashko,  but  under  the  conditions  it  is  not  possible." 

"  I  proposed  to  Mashko,  too,  to  tone  down  that  note,  but 
he  would  not." 

"  Then  there  is  no  escape.  All  this  is  immensely  foolish, 
but  there  is  no  escape  ! " 

Pan  Stanislav  did  not  answer,  and  they  walked  on  in 
silence.     Pan  Yamish  began  to  speak  again,  — 

"  But  I  hear  that  Marynia  Plavitski  has  received  some 
inheritance  ?  " 

"  She  has,  but  a  small  one." 

"  And  the  old  man  ?  " 

"  He  is  angry  that  the  whole  property  is  not  left  to  him." 

Yamish  tapped  his  forehead  with  his  glove.  "  He  has  a 
little  something  here,  that  Plavitski ;  "  then,  looking  around, 
he  said,  "  Somehow  we  are  going  far," 

"  We  shall  be  on  the  ground  in  a  moment." 

And  they  went  on.  The  sun  had  risen  above  the  under- 
growth ;  from  the  trees  there  fell  bluish  shadows  on  the 
snow ;  but  more  and  more  light  was  coming  into  the  forest 
every  instant.  The  crows  and  daws,  hidden  somewhere 
among  the  tree-tops,  shook  the  snow,  dry  as  down,  and  it 
fell  without  noise  to  the  ground,  forming  under  the  trees 
little  pointed  piles.  Everywhere  there  was  immense  silence 
and  rest.   Men  alone  were  disturbing  it  to  shoot  at  each  other. 

They  halted  at  last  on  the  edge  of  the  forest  where  it 
was  clean.  Then  Yamish's  short  discourse  concerning  the 
superiority  of  peace  over  war  was  listened  to  by  Mashko 
and  Gantovski  with  ears  hidden  by  fur  collars.  When 
Kresovski  loaded  the  pistols,  each  made  his  choice ;  and 
the  two,  throwing  their  furs  aside,  stood  opposite  each 
other  with  the  barrels  of  their  weapons  turned  upward. 

Gantovski  breathed  hurriedly ;  his  face  was  red,  and  his 
mustaches  were  in  icicles.  From  his  whole  posture  and  face 
it  was  clear  that  the  affair  disconcerted  him  greatly;  that 
through  shame  and  force  of  will  he  controlled  himself;  and 
that,  had  he  followed  the  natural  bent  of  his  feelings,  he 


224  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

would  have  sprung  at  his  opponent  and  smashed  him  with 
the  butt  of  his  pistol,  or  even  with  his  fist.  Mashko,  who 
previously  had  feigned  not  to  see  his  opponent,  looked  at 
him  now  with  a  face  full  of  hatred,  stubbornness,  and  con- 
tempt. His  cheeks  were  all  in  spots.  He  mastered  him- 
self more,  however,  than  Gantovski ;  and,  dressed  in  a  long 
frock-coat,  with  a  high  hat  on  his  Jiead,  with  his  long  side- 
whiskers,  he  seemed  too  stiff,  too  much  like  an  actor 
playing  the  role  of  a  duelling  gentleman. 

''He  will  shoot  'the  bear'  like  a  dog,"  thought  Pan 
Stanislav. 

The  words  of  command  were  heard,  and  two  shots  shook 
the  forest  stillness.  Mashko  turned  then  to  Kresovski,  and 
said  coolly,  — 

"  I  beg  to  load  the  pistols." 

But  at  the  same  moment  at  his  feet  appeared  a  spot  of 
blood  on  the  snow. 

"  You  are  wounded,"  said  the  doctor,  approaching  quickly. 

"  Perhaps ;  load  the  pistols,  I  beg." 

At  that  moment  he  staggered,  for  he  was  wounded  really. 
The  ball  had  carried  away  the  very  point  of  his  kneepan. 
The  duel  was  interrupted;  but  Gantovski  remained  some 
time  yet  on  the  spot  with  staring  eyes,  astonished  at  what 
had  happened. 

After  the  first  examination  of  the  wound  he  approached, 
however,  pushed  forward  by  Yamish,  and  said  as  awk- 
wardly as  sincerely,  — 

"  Now  I  confess  that  I  was  not  right  in  attacking  you.  I 
recall  everything  that  I  said,  and  I  beg  your  pardon.  You  are 
wounded,  but  I  did  not  wish  to  wound  you."  After  a  moment, 
when  he  was  going  away  with  Yamish  and  Vilkovski,  he 
was  heard  to  say,  "  As  I  love  God  most  sincerely,  it  was  a 
pure  accident ;  I  intended  to  fire  over  his  head." 

Mashko  did  not  open  his  mouth  that  day.  To  the  ques- 
tion of  the  doctor  if  the  wound  caused  much  pain,  he  merely 
shook  his  head  in  sign  that  it  did  not. 

Bigiel,  who  had  just  returned  from  Prussia  with  his 
pockets  full  of  contracts,  when  he  heard  all  that  had 
happened,  said  to  Pan  Stanislav,  — 

"Mashko  seems  an  intelligent  man,  but,  as  God  lives, 
every  one  of  us  has  some  whim  in  his  head.  He,  for 
example,  has  credit;  he  has  many  splendid  business  cases; 
he  might  have  a  considerable  income,  and  make  a  fortune. 
But  no,  he  wants  to  force  matters,  strain  his  credit  to  the 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  226 

utmost,  buy  estates,  give  himself  out  as  a  great  proprietor, 
a  lord,  —  be  God  knows  what,  only  not  what  he  is.  All 
this  is  wonderful,  and  the  more  so  that  it  is  so  common. 
More  than  once  I  think  that  life  in  itself  is  not  bad,  but 
that  all  ruin  it  through  want  of  mental  balance,  and  certain 
devilish  whims,  —  through  a  kind  of  wasp,  which  every 
one  has  behind  his  collar.  I  understand  that  a  man  wants 
to  have  more  tlian  he  has,  and  to  mean  more  than  he 
means  ;  but  why  strive  for  it  in  fantastic  fashion?  I  am 
first  to  recognize  energy  and  cleverness  in  Mashko;  but, 
taking  everything  into  consideration,  he  has  something 
here,  as  God  is  true,  he  has." 

Bigiel  now  tapped  his  forehead  with  his  finger  a  number 
of  times. 

Meanwhile  Mashko,  with  set  teeth,  was  suffering,  since 
his  wound,  though  not  threatening  life,  was  uncommonly 
painful.  In  the  evening  he  fainted  twice  in  presence  of 
Pan  Stanislav.  Afterward,  weakness  supervened,  during 
which  that  boldness  of  spirit  which  had  upheld  the  young 
advocate  through  the  day  gave  way  completely.  When 
the  doctor  departed,  after  dressing  the  wound,  Mashko  lay 
quietly  for  a  time,  and  then  began, — 

"But  I  am  in  luck!" 

"  Do  not  think  of  that,"  answered  Pan  Stanislav;  "thou 
wilt  get  more  fever." 

But  Mashko  continued,  however,  "Insulted,  ruined, 
wounded, — all  at  one  blow." 

"I  repeat  to  thee  that  this  is  no  time  to  think  of  that." 

Mashko  rested  his  elbow  on  the  pillow,  hissed  from  pain, 
and  said ,  — 

"Never  mind;  this  is  the  last  time  that  I  shall  converse 
with  a  decent  man.  One  week  or  two  from  now  I  shall 
be  of  those  whom  people  avoid.  What  do  I  care  for  this 
fever?  There  is  something  so  unendurable  in  ruin  so  com- 
plete, in  a  wreck  of  fate  so  utter,  that  the  first  idiot,  the 
first  goose  that  comes  along  will  say :  '  I  knew  that  long 
ago;  I  foresaw  that.'  So  it  is:  all  of  them  foresee  every- 
thing after  the  event;  and  of  him  whom  the  thunderbolt 
has  struck,  they  make  in  addition  a  fool,  or  a  madman. 

Pan  Stanislav  recalled  Bigiel's  words  at  that  moment. 
But  Tklashko,  by  a  marvellous  coincidence,  spoke  on  in  such 
fashion  as  if  wishing  to  answer  those  words. 

"And  dost  think  that  I  did  not  give  account  to  myself 
that  I  was  going  too  sharply;  that  I  was  hurrying  with 

15 


226  CHILDREN  OF  THE   SOIL. 

too  Diuch  force;  tliat  I  wanted  to  be  something  greater 
than  I  was;  that  I  carried  my  nose  too  high?  No  one 
will  render  me  that  justice;  but  knowest  thou  that  I  said 
it  to  myself  ?  But  I  said  to  myself,  too :  *  It  is  needful  to 
do  this ;  this  is  the  one  way  to  rise  to  distinction.  Maybe 
things  are  wrong,  maybe  life,  in  general,  goes  backward; 
but  had  it  not  been  for  that  adventure  unforeseen,  and 
of  unfathomable  stupidity,  I  should  have  succeeded  just 
because  I  was  such  as  I  was.  If  I  had  been  a  modest  man, 
I  should  not  have  got  Panna  Kraslavski.  With  us  it  is 
necessary  always  to  pretend  something;  and  if  the  devils 
take  me,  it  is  not  through  my  pride,  but  that  blockhead." 

"But  how  the  deuce  art  thou  to  know  surely  that  thy 
marriage  will  fail?  " 

"^ly  dear  man,  thou  hast  no  knowledge  of  those  women. 
They  agreed  on  Pan  Mashko  through  lack  of  something 
better,  for  Pan  Mashko  had  good  success.  But  if  any 
shadow  falls  on  my  property,  my  position,  my  station, 
they  will  throw  me  aside  without  mercy,  and  then  roll 
mountains  on  to  me  to  shield  themselves  before  the  world 
of  society.  What  knowledge  hast  thou  of  them?  Panna 
Kraslavski  is  not  Panna  Plavitski." 

A  moment  of  silence  followed,  then  Mashko  spoke 
further,  with  a  weakening  voice:  "She  could  have  rescued 
me.  For  her  I  should  have  gone  on  another  road,  —  a  far 
quieter  one.  In  such  conditions  Kremen  would  have  been 
saved;  the  debt  on  it  would  have  fallen  away,  as  well  as 
Plavitski's  annuity.  I  should  have  waded  out.  Dost 
thou  know  that,  besides,  I  fell  in  love  with  her  in  student 
fashion?  It  came  so,  unknown  whence.  But  she  chose 
rather  to  be  angry  with  thee  than  love  me.  Now  I  under- 
stand; there  is  no  help  for  it." 

Pan  Stanislav,  who  did  not  relish  this  conversation, 
interrupted  it,  and  spoke  with  a  shadow  of  impatience,  — 

"It  astonishes  me  that  a  man  of  thy  energy  thinks  every- 
thing lost,  while  it  is  not.  Panna  Plavitski  is  a  past  on 
which  thou  hast  made  a  cross,  by  proposing  to  Panna 
Kraslavski.  As  to  the  present,  thou  wert  attacked,  it  is 
true;  but  thou  hast  fought,  thou  wert  wounded,  but  in 
such  a  way  that  in  a  week  thou  wilt  be  well;  and  finally, 
those  ladies  have  not  announced  that  they  break  with  thee. 
Till  thoii  hast  that,  black  on  white,  thou  hast  no  right  to 
talk  thus.  Thou  art  sick,  and  that  is  why  thou  art  reading 
funeral  services  over  thyself  prematurely.     But  I  will  tell 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  227 

thee  another  thing.  It  is  for  thee  to  let  those  ladies  know 
what  has  happened.  Dost  wish,  I  will  go  to  them  to- 
morrow, then  they  will  act  as  they  please;  but  let  them  be 
informed  by  thy  second,  not  by  city  gossips." 

Mashko  thought  a  while,  and  said:  "I  wished  to  write 
in  every  case  to  my  betrothed;  but  if  thou  go,  it  will  be 
better.  I  have  no  hope  that  she  will  hold  to  me,  but  it  is 
needful  to  do  what  is  proper.  I  thank  thee.  Thou  wilt 
be  able  to  present  the  affair  from  the  best  side ,  —  only  not 
a  word  touching  troubles  of  any  kind.  Thou  must  lessen 
the  sale  of  the  oak  to  zero,  to  a  politeness  which  I  wished 
to  show  thee.  I  thank  thee  sincerely.  Say  that  Gantovski 
apologized." 

"Hast  thou  some  one  to  sit  with  thee?" 

"My  servant  and  his  wife.  The  doctor  will  come  again, 
and  bring  a  surgeon.  This  pains  me  devilishly,  but  I  am 
not  ill." 

"Then,  till  we  meet  again." 

"  Be  well.     I  thank  thee  —  thou  art  —  " 

"Sleep  soundly." 

Pan  Stanislav  went  out.  Along  the  way  he  meditated 
on  Mashko's  course,  and  meditated  with  a  species  of  anger: 

"He  is  not  of  the  romantic  school;  still  he  is  inclined 
to  pretend  something  of  that  sort.  Panna  Plavitski!  he 
loved  her  —  he  would  have  gone  by  another  road  —  she 
might  have  saved  him  !  —  this  is  merely  a  tribute  to  senti- 
mentality, and,  besides,  in  false  coin,  since  a  month  later 
he  proposed  to  that  puppet  —  for  money's  sake  !  Maybe 
I  am  duller-witted;  I  do  not  understand  this,  and  do  not 
believe  in  disappointments  cured  so  easily.  Had  I  loved 
one  woman,  and  been  disappointed,  I  do  not  think  that  I 
should  marry  another  in  a  month.  Devil  take  me  if  I 
should !  He  is  right,  however,  that  Marynia  is  of  a 
different  kind  from  Kraslavski.  There  is  no  need  what- 
ever to  discuss  that;  she  is  different  altogether!  different 
altogether ! " 

And  that  thought  was  immensely  agreeable  to  Pan 
Stanislav.  When  he  reached  home,  he  found  a  letter  from 
Bukatski,  who  was  in  Italy,  and  a  card  from  Marynia,  full 
of  anxiety  and  questions  concerning  the  duel.  There  was 
a  request  to  send  news  early  in  the  morning  of  what 
had  happened,  especially  to  inform  her  if  everything  was 
really  over,  and  if  no  new  encounter  was  threatened.  Pan 
Stanislav,  under  the  influence  of  the  idea  that  slie  was 


228  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

different  from  Panna  Kraslavski,  answered  cordially,  more 
cordially  even  than  he  wished,  and  commanded  his  servant 
to  deliver  the  note  at  nine  the  next  morning.  Then  he  set 
about  reading  Bukatski's  letter,  shrugging  his  shoulders 
from  the  very  beginning.     Bukatski  wrote  as  follows :  — 

May  Sakya  Muni  obtain  for  thee  blessed  Xirvana  !  "Besides  this, 
tell  Kaplaner  not  to  forward  my  three  thousand  rubles  to  Florence, 
but  to  keep  them  at  my  order.  These  days  I  have  resolve<l  to  enter- 
tain the  design  of  forming  the  plan  of  becoming  a  vegetarian  Dost 
note  how  decisive  this  is  ?  If  the  thought  does  not  annoy  me,  if  this 
plan  becomes  a  determination,  and  the  determination  is  not  beyond 
my  power,  1  shall  cease  to  be  a  flesh-eating  animal ;  and  life  will  cost 
me  less  money.  That  is  the  whole  question.  As  to  thee,  I  beg  thee 
to  be  satisfied  with  everything,  for  life  is  not  worth  fatigue. 

I  have  discovered  why  the  Slavs  prefer  synthesis  to  analysis.  It 
is  because  they  are  idlers,  and  analysis  is  laborious.  A  man  can 
synthesize  while  smoking  a  cigar  after  dinner.  For  that  matter,  they 
are  right  in  being  idlers.  It  is  comfortably  warm  in  Florence,  es- 
pecially on  Lung-Arno.  I  walk  along  for  myself  and  make  a  syn- 
thesis of  the  Florentine  school.  I  have  made  the  acquaintance  here 
of  an  able  artist  in  water-colors,  —  a  Slav,  too,  who  lives  by  art ;  but 
he  proves  that  art  is  swinishness,  which  has  grown  up  from  a  mer- 
%ntile  need  of  luxury,  and  from  over-much  money,  wluch  some  pile 
up  at  the  expense  of  others.  In  one  word,  art  is,  to  his  thinking, 
meanness  and  injustice.  He  fell  upon  me  as  upon  a  dog,  and 
asserted  that  to  be  a  Buddhist  and  to  be  occupied  with  art  is  the 
summit  of  inconsistency ;  but  I  attacked  him  still  more  savagely, 
and  answered,  that  to  consider  consistency  as  something  better  than 
inconsistency  was  the  height  of  miserable  obscurantism,  prejudices, 
and  meanness.  The  man  was  astonished,  and  lost  speech.  I  am 
persuading  him  to  hang  himself,  but  he  doesn't  want  to.  Tell 
me,  art  thou  sure  that  the  earth  turns  around  the  sun,  or  is  n't  this 
all  a  joke  ?  For  that  matter,  it  is  all  one  to  me !  In  Warsaw  I 
was  sorry  for  that  child  who  died,  and  here  too  I  think  of  her 
frequently.  How  stupid  that  was !  What  is  Pani  Emilia  doing  ? 
People  have  their  role  in  the  world  fixed  beforehand,  and  her  role 
came  to  her  with  wings  and  suffering.  Why  was  she  good?  She 
would  have  been  happier  otherwise.  As  to  thee,  O  man,  show  me 
one  kindness.  I  beg  thee,  by  all  things,  marry  not.  Remember 
that  if  thou  marry,  if   thou  have  a  son,  if   thou  toil  to  leave  him 

Fropertj',  thou  wilt  do  so  only  for  this :  that  that  son  may  be  what 
am,  irreparably  so.  Farewell  burning  energy,  farewell  mercantile 
house,  commission  firm,  O  transitory  form,  vicious  toil,  effort  for 
money,  future  father  of  a  family,  rearer  of  children  and  trouble. 
Embrace  for  me  Vaskovski.  He,  too,  is  a  man  of  svnthesis.  May 
Sakya  Muni  open  thy  eyes  to  know  that  it  is  warm  in  the  sun  and 
cool  in  the  shade,  and  to  lie  down  is  better  than  to  stand !    Thy 

Bukatski. 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  229 

"Hash!  "  thought  Pan  Stanislav.  "All  this  is  artificial, 
all  self-deception  through  a  kind  of  exaggeration.  But  if 
a  man  accustoms  himself  to  this,  it  will  become  in  time  a 
second  nature  to  him,  and,  meanwhile,  the  devils  take  his 
reason;  his  energy  and  soul  decay  like  a  corpse.  A  man 
may  throw  himself  headlong  into  such  a  hole  as  Mashko 
has,  or  into  such  a  one  as  Bukatski.  In  both  cases  he  will 
go  under  the  ice.  What  the  devil  does  it  mean?  Still 
there  must  be  some  healthy  and  normal  life;  only  it  is 
needful  to  have  a  little  common  sense  in  the  head.  But  for 
a  man  like  Bigiel,  it  is  not  bad  in  the  world.  He  has  a  wife 
whom  he  loves,  children  whom  he  loves;  he  works  like  an 
ox.  At  the  same  time  he  has  a  great  attachment  for  people, 
loves  music  and  his  violoncello,  on  which  he  plays  in  the 
moonlight,  with  his  face  raiged  toward  the  ceiling.  It 
cannot  be  said  that  he  is  a  materialist.  No ;  in  him  one 
thing  agrees  with  another  somehow,  and  he  is  happy." 

Pan  Stanislav  began  to  walk  through  the  room,  and  look 
from  time  to  time  at  Litka's  face,  smiling  from  between 
the  birches.  The  need  of  balancing  accounts  with  his  own 
self  seized  hold  of  him  with  increasing  force.  Like  a 
merchant,  he  set  about  examining  his  debit  and  credit, 
which,  for  that  matter,  was  not  difficult.  On  the  credit 
side  of  his  life,  his  feeling  for  Litka  once  occupied  the 
chief  place;  she  was  so  dear  to  him  in  her  time  that 
if  a  year  before  it  had  been  said,  "  Take  her  as  your  own 
child,"  he  would  have  taken  her,  and  considered  that  he 
had  something  to  live  for.  But  now  this  relation  was  only 
a  remembrance,  and  from  the  rubric  of  happiness  it  had 
passed  over  to  the  rubric  of  misfortune.  What  was  left? 
First  of  all,  life  itself;  second,  that  mental  dilettantism, 
which  in  every  case  is  a  luxury;  further,  the  future,  which 
rouses  curiosity;  further,  the  use  of  material  things;  and 
finally,  his  commercial  house.  All  this  had  its  value;  but 
Pan  Stanislav  saw  that  there  was  a  lack  of  object  in  it. 
As  to  the  commercial  house,  he  was  pleased  with  the 
successes  which  he  experienced,  but  not  with  the  kind  of 
work  wliich  the  house  demanded;  on  the  contrary,  that  kind 
of  work  was  not  enough  for  him,  —  it  was  too  narrow,  too 
poor,  and  angered  him.  On  the  other  hand,  dilettantism, 
books,  the  world  of  mind,  —  all  had  significance  as  an  orna- 
ment of  life,  but  could  not  become  its  basis.  "Bukatski," 
said  Pan  Stanislav  to  himself,  "has  sunk  in  this  up  to  his 
ears:    he  wished  to  live  with  it,  and  has  become  weak, 


230  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

incompetent,  barren.  Flowers  are  good;  but  whoso  wishes 
to  breathe  the  odor  of  them  exclusively  will  poison  him- 
self." In  truth,  Pan  Stanislav  did  not  need  to  be  a  great 
sage  to  see  around  him  a  multitude  of  people  who  were 
out  of  joint,  whose  health  of  soul  mental  dilettantism  had 
undermined, — just  as  morphine  undermines  one's  health 
of  body. 

This  dilettantism  had  wrought  much  harm  to  him,  too, 
if  only  in  this,  — that  it  had  made  him  a  skeptic.  He  had 
been  saved  from  grievous  disease  only  by  a  sound  organism, 
which  felt  the  absolute  need  of  expending  its  superfluous 
energy.  But  what  will  come  later?  Can  he  continue  in 
that  way?  To  this  Pan  Stanislav  answered  now  with  a 
decisive  No  I  Since  the  business  of  his  house  could  not 
fill  out  his  life,  and  since  it  was  simply  perilous  to  fill  it 
out  with  dilettantism,  it  was  necessary  to  fill  it  out  with 
something  else,  —  to  create  new  worlds,  new  duties,  to 
open  up  new  horizons;  and  to  do  this,  he  had  to  do  one 
thing,  —  to  marry. 

On  a  time  when  he  said  this  to  himself,  he  saw  before 
him  a  certain  undefined  fornj,  uniting  all  the  moral  and 
physical  requisites,  but  without  a  body  and  without  a  name. 
Now  it  was  a  real  figure ;  it  had  calm  blue  eyes,  dark  hair,  a 
mouth  a  trifle  too  large,  and  was  called  Marynia  Plavitski. 
Of  any  one  else  there  could  not  be  even  mention;  and  Pan 
Stanislav  placed  her  before  himself  with  such  vividness 
that  the  veins  throbbed  in  his  temples  with  more  life.  He 
was  perfectly  conscious,  however,  that  something  was 
lacking  then  in  his  feeling  for  Marynia,  —  namely,  that 
around  which  the  imagination  lingers,  which  dares  not  ask 
anytliing,  but  hopes  everything;  which  fears,  trembles, 
kneels;  which  says  to  the  loved  woman,  "At  thy  feet;" 
the  love  in  which  desire  is  at  the  same  time  worship, 
homage,  —  a  feeling  which  adds  a  kind  of  mystic  coloring 
to  the  relations  of  a  man  to  a  woman;  which  makes  of  the 
man,  not  merely  a  lover,  but  a  follower.  That  had  gone. 
Pan  Stanislav,  in  thinking  now  of  Marynia,  thought 
soberly,  almost  insolently.  He  felt  that  he  could  go  and 
take  her,  and  have  her;  and  if  he  did  so,  it  would  be  for 
two  reasons :  first,  because  Marynia  was  for  him  a  woman 
more  attractive  than  all  others;  and  second,  reason  com- 
manded him  to  marry,  and  to  marry  her. 

"She  is  wonderfully  reliable,"  thought  he;  "there  is 
nothing  in  her  fruitless  or  dried  up.      Egotism  has  not 


CHILDREN  OF  THE   SOIL.  231 

destroyed  the  heart  in  her;  and  it  is  undoubted  that  such 
a  one  will  not  think  merely  of  what  belongs  to  her.  She 
is  honesty  incarnate,  duty  incarnate;  and  in  life  the  only 
need  will  be  to  prevent  her  from  thinking  too  little  of  her- 
self. If  reason  commands  me  to  marry,  I  should  commit 
a  folly,  were  I  to  look  for  another." 

Then  he  asked  whether,  if  he  abandoned  Marynia,  he 
would  not  act  dishonorably.  Litka  had  united  them. 
Something  in  his  heart  revolted  at  the  very  thought  of 
opposing  the  will  and  sacrifice  of  that  child.  If  he  wished, 
however,  to  act  against  that  will,  should  he  have  borne 
himself  as  he  had?  No.  In  such  an  event  he  ought  not 
to  have  shown  himself  at' the  Plavitskis'  since  Litka's 
death,  nor  have  seen  Marynia,  nor  kissed  her  hand,  nor 
let  himself  be  borne  away  by  the  current  which  had  borne 
him,  — by  the  power  of  events,  perhaps,  — but  borne  him 
so  far  that  to-day  he  would  disappoint  Marynia,  and  fall 
in  her  eyes  to  the  wretched  position  of  a  man  who  knows 
not  himself  what  he  wishes.  For  he  would  have  to  be 
blind  not  to  see  that  Marynia  considers  herself  his  be- 
trothed; and  that,  if  she  were  not  disquieted  by  his  silence 
so  far,  it  was  simply  because  she  ascribed  it  to  the  mourn- 
ing which  both  had  in  their  hearts  for  Litka. 

"  Looking,  then,"  said  Pan  ^tanislav,  "  from  the  side  of 
reason  and  conservative  instinct,  from  the  side  of  sense  and 
honor,  I  ought  to  marry  her.  Therefore  what  ?  Therefore 
I  should  be  an  imbecile  if  I  hesitated,  and  did  not  consider 
the  question  as  settled.     It  is  settled." 

Then  he  drew  breath,  and  began  to  walk  through  the 
room.  Under  the  lamp  lay  Bukatski's  letter.  Pan  Stanis- 
lav  took  it,  and  read  from  the  place  where  his  eyes  fell  by 
chance. 

«'  I  beg  thee,  by  all  things,  marry  not.  Remember  that  if  thou 
marry,  iflhou  have  a  son,  if  thou  toil  to  leave  him  property,  thou  wUt 
do  so  only  for  this :  that  that  son  may  be  what  I  am." 

"Here  is  a  nice  quandary  for  thee,"  said  Pan  Stanislav, 
with  a  certain  stubbornness.  "  I  will  marry.  I  will  marry 
:Marynia  Plavitski ;  dost  hear  ?  I  will  gain  property  ;  and 
if  I  have  a  son,  I  will  not  make  of  him  a  decadent ;  dost 
understand?" 

And  he  was  pleased  with  himself.  A  little  later  he 
looked  at  Litka,  and  felt  that  a  sudden  emotion  seized  him. 


232  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

A  current  of  sorrow  for  her,  and  of  feeling,  rose  with  a  new 
power  in  his  heart.  He  began  to  converse  with  the  child, 
as  in  important  moments  of  life  people  speak  usually  with 

beloved  dead,  —  „  „      i    j  i. 

"  Thou  art  pleased,  kitten  ?  Is  it  not  true  ?  asked  he. 
And  she  smiled  at  him  from  among  the  birches  painted  by 
Marynia;  she  seemed  to  blink  at  him,  and  to  answer, — 

"  True,  Pan  Stas  ;  true." 

That  evening,  before  going  to  bed,  he  took  back  from  the 
servant  the  note  which  was  to  be  given  to  Marynia  in  the 
morning,  and  wrote  another  still  more  affectionate,  and  in 
the  following  words, — 

Dear  Lady,  —  Gantovski  made  a  sceue  with  Mashko  —  rather 
an  awkward  one  —  from  which  a  duel  came.  Mashko  is  slightly 
wounded.  His  opponent  begged  his  pardon  on  the  spot.  There 
will  be  no  further  results,  save  this  :  that  I  am  still  more  convinced 
of  how  kind  you  are,  and  thoughtful  and  excellent ;  and  to-morrow, 
if  you  permit,  I  will  come  with  thanks  to  kiss  your  beloved  and  dear 
hands.  I  will  come  in  the  afternoon  ;  for,  in  the  morning,  after  vis- 
iting ray  office,  I  must  go  to  Fani  Kraslavski's,  and  then  say  farewell 
to  Professor  V'askovski,  though,  were  it  possible,  I  should  prefer  to 
begin  the  day  not  with  them.  Polawetski. 

After  writing  these  words,  he  looked  at  the  clock,  and, 
though  it  was  eleven  already,  he  gave  command  to  deliver 
the  letter,  not  in  the  morning,  but  straightway. 

"Thou  wilt  go  in  through  the  kitchen,"  said  he  to  the 
servant ;  "  and,  if  the  young  lady  is  asleep,  thou  wilt  leave 
it." 

When  alone,  he  said  the  following  words  to  the  lady,  — 

"Thou  art  a  very  poor  diviner,  unless  thou  divine  why  I 
am  coming  to-morrow  ! " 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  233 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

Pani  Keaslavski  received  Pan  Stauislav  with  great 
astonishment,  because  of  the  early  hour;  but  still  she 
received  him,  thinking  that  he  had  come  for  some  uncom- 
mon reason.  He,  on  his  part,  without  long  introductions, 
told  her  what  had  happened,  disguising  at  the  same  time 
only  what  was  necessary  for  shielding  Mashko  from  sus- 
picion of  bankruptcy  or  unfavorable  business. 

He  noticed  that  the  old  lady,  while  he  was  talking,  kept 
her  green  eyes  —  made,  as  it  were,  of  stone,  and  devoid  of 
glitter  —  fixed  on  him,  and  that  no  muscle  of  her  face 
moved.     Only  when  he  had  ended  did  she  say,  — 

"  There  is  one  thing  in  all  this  which  I  do  not  under- 
stand. Why  did  Pan  Mashko  sell  the  oak  ?  That  is  no 
small  ornament  to  any  residence." 

"  Those  oaks  stand  far  from  the  house,"  answered  Pan 
Stanislav,  ''and  injure  the  land,  — for  nothing  will  grow  in 
the  shade  of  them  ;  and  Pan  Mashko  is  a  practical  man 
Besides,  to  tell  the  truth,  we  are  old  friends,  and  he  did 
that  through  friendship  for  me.  I  am  a  merchant;  I 
needed  the  oak,  and  Pan  Mashko  let  me  have  all  he  could 
spare." 

"  In  such  an  event,  I  do  not  understand  why  that  young 
man  —  " 

"  If  you  are  acquainted  with  Pan  Yamish,"  interrupted 
Pan  Stanislav,  "he,  because  he  lives  near  both  Kremen  and 
Yalbrykov,  will  explain  to  you  that  that  young  man  is  not 
of  perfect  mind,  and  is  known  as  such  in  the  whole  neigh- 
borhood." 

"  In  that  case  Pan  Mashko  was  not  obliged  to  fight  a  duel 
with  him." 

"  In  such  matters,"  answered  Pan  Stanislav,  with  a  shade 
of  impatience,  "  we  have  different  ideas  from  ladies." 

"You  will  permit  me  to  say  a  couple  of  words  to  my 
daughter." 

Pan  Stanislav  thought  it  time  to  rise  and  take  farewell ; 
but  since  he  had  come,  as  it  were,  on  a  reconnaissance,  and 
wished  to  take  some  information  to  Mashko,  he  said,  — 


234  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

"  If  the  ladies  have  any  message  to  Pan  Mashko,  I  am 
going  to  him  directly." 

"  In  a  moment,"  answered  Pani  Kraslavski. 

Pan  Stanislav  remained  alone  and  waited  rather  long,  so 
long  indeed  that  he  began  to  be  impatient.  At  last  both 
ladies  appeared.  Though  her  hair  had  not  been  dressed 
with  sufficient  care,  the  young  lady,  in  a  white  chemisette 
and  a  sailor's  tie,  seemed  to  Pan  Stanislav  quite  beautiful,  in 
spite  of  a  slight  inflammation  of  the  eyes,  and  a  few  pimples 
on  her  forehead,  which  were  powdered.  There  was  about 
her  a  certain  attractive  languor,  from  which,  having  risen 
very  late  apparently,  she  had  not  been  able  yet  to  rouse 
herself,  and  a  certain  equally  charming  morning  careless- 
ness. For  the  rest,  there  was  no  emotion  on  her  bloodless 
face. 

After  salutations  were  exchanged  with  Pan  Stanislav,  she 
said,  with  a  cool,  calm  voice,  — 

"  Be  so  kind  as  to  tell  Pan  Mashko  that  I  was  greatly 
pained  and  alarmed.     Is  the  wound  really  slight  ?  " 

"  Beyond  a  doubt." 

"  I  have  begged  mamma  to  visit  Pan  Mashko ;  I  will  take 
her,  and  wait  in  the  carriage  for  news.  Then  I  will  go  again 
for  mamma,  and  so  every  day  till  Pan  Mashko  has  recovered. 
Mamma  is  so  kind  that  she  consents  to  this." 

Here  a  slight,  barely  evident  blush  passed  over  her  pale 
face.  To  Pan  Stanislav,  for  whom  her  words  were  an  utter 
surprise,  and  whom  they  pierced  with  astonishment,  she 
seemed  then  perfectly  comely;  and  a  moment  later,  when 
going  to  Mashko,  he  said  to  himself,  — 

"  Well,  the  women  are  better  than  they  seem.  But  they 
are  two  decanters  of  chilled  water ;  still  the  daughter  has 
some  heart.  Mashko  did  not  know  her,  and  he  will  have 
an  agreeable  surprise.  The  old  woman  will  go  to  him, 
will  see  all  those  bishops  and  castellans  with  crooked  noses 
over  which  Bukatski  amused  himself  so  much;  but  she  will 
believe  in  Mashko's  greatness." 

Meditating  in  this  way,  he  found  himself  in  Mashko's 
house,  and  had  to  wait,  for  he  came  at  the  moment  of  dress- 
ing the  wound.  But  barely  had  the  doctor  gone,  when 
Mashko  gave  command  to  ask  him  to  enter,  and,  without 
even  a  greeting,  inquired,  — 

«  Well,  hast  thou  been  there  ?  " 

"  How  art  thou  ;  how  hast  thou  slept  ?  " 

"  Well.    But  never  mind  —  hast  thou  been  there  ?  ** 


CHILDREN  OF  THE   SOIL.  235 

"I  have.  I  will  tell  thee  briefly.  In  a  quarter  of  an 
hour  Pani  Kraslavski  will  be  here.  The  young  lady  told  me 
to  say  that  she  would  bring  her  mother,  and  would  wait  to 
hear  how  thou  art ;  and  to  tell  thee  that  she  is  greatly 
alarmed,  that  she  is  very  unhappy,  but  thanks  God  that 
there  is  nothing  worse.  Thou  seest,  Mashko !  I  add,  be- 
sides, that  she  is  good-looking,  and  has  attracted  me.  Now 
I  am  going,  for  T  have  no  time  to  wait." 

"Have  mercy;  wait  a  moment.  Wait,  my  dear;  1  have 
not  a  fever,  and  if  thou  speak  through  fear  —  " 

"Thou  art  annoying,"  said  Pan  Stanislav ;  "  I  give  thee  my 
word  that  I  tell  the  truth,  and  that  thou  hast  spoken  ill  of 
jhy  betrothed  prematurely." 

Mashko  dropped  his  head  on  the  pillow,  and  was  silent 
for  a  time ;  then  he  said,  as  if  to  himself,  — 

"  I  shall  be  ready  to  fall  in  love  with  her  really." 

"That  is  well.  Be  in  health  ;  I  am  going  to  take  farewell 
of  Vaskovski." 

But  instead  of  going  to  Vaskovski,  he  went  to  the  Pla- 
vitskis',  whom  he  did  not  find  at  home,  however.  Plavitski 
was  never  at  home,  and  of  Marynia  they  said  that  she  had 
gone  out  an  hour  before.  Usually  when  a  man  is  going  to 
a  woman  who  rouses  vivid  interest  in  him,  and  makes  up 
his  mind  on  the  way  what  to  say  to  her,  he  has  rather  a 
stupid  face  if  he  finds  that  she  is  not  at  home.  Pan  Stan- 
islav felt  this,  and  was  vexed.  He  went  to  a  greenhouse, 
however,  bought  a  multitude  of  flowers,  and  had  them  sent 
to  j\rarynia.  When  he  thought  of  the  delight  with  which 
she  would  receive  them,  and  with  what  a  beating  heart  she 
would  wait  for  evening,  he  was  so  pleased  that  after  dinner 
he  dropped  into  Vaskovski's  in  the  very  best  humor. 

"  I  have  come  to  take  farewell.  Professor;  when  dost  thou 
start  on  the  journey  ?  " 

"  How  art  thou,  my  dear  ?  "  answered  Vaskovski.  "  I  had 
to  delay  for  a  couple  of  days ;  for,  as  thou  seest,  I  am  winter- 
ing various  small  boys  here." 

'•  Young  Aryans,  I  suppose,  who  in  hours  of  freedom 
draw  purses  out  of  pockets  ?  " 

"No,  they  are  good  souls ;  but  I  cannot  leave  them  with- 
out care.  I  must  seek  out  a  successor  who  will  live  in  my 
place." 

"But  who  would  roast  himself  here?  How  dost  thou 
live  in  such  heat  ?  " 

"  Because  I  sit  without  a  coat ;  and  wilt  thou  permit  me 


236  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

not  to  put  it  on  ?  It  is  a  little  warm  here  ;  but  perspiratioi 
is  wholesome,  and  these  little  feathered  creatures  crave 
heat." 

Pau  Stauislav  looked  around.  In  the  room  there  were  at 
least  a  dozen  and  a  half  of  buntings,  titmice,  finches.  Spar- 
rows, accustomed  evidently  to  be  fed,  looked  in  in  flocks 
through  the  window.  The  professor  kept  in  his  room  only 
birds  purchased  of  dealers;  sparrows  he  did  not  admit,  say- 
ing that  if  he  did  there  would  be  no  end  to  their  numbers, 
and  that  it  would  be  unjust  to  receive  some  and  reject 
others.  The  chamber  birds  had  cages  fastened  to  the  walls 
and  the  inner  sash  of  the  window,  but  went  into  them  only 
at  night ;  during  daylight  they  flew  through  the  chamber 
freely,  filling  it  with  twitter,  and  leaving  traces  on  books 
and  manuscripts,  with  which  all  the  corners  and  the  tables 
were  filled. 

Some-  of  the  birds  which  had  become  very  tame  sat  on 
Vaskovski's  head  even.  On  the  floor  "husks  of  hemp-seed 
cracked  under  one's  feet.  Pan  Stanislav,  who  knew  that 
chamber  thoroughly,  still  shrugged  his  shoulders,  and  said, — 

"  All  this  is  very  good,  but  that  the  professor  lets  them 
light  and  sing  on  his  head ;  that,  God  knows,  is  too  much. 
Besides,  it  is  stifling  here." 

"  That  is  the  fault  of  Saint  Francis  of  Assisi,"  answered 
Yaskovski,  "  for  I  learned  from  him  to  love  these  little 
birds.  I  have  even  a  pair  of  doves,  but  they  are  home- 
stayers." 

"  Thou  wilt  see  Bukatski,  of  course ;  I  received  a  letter 
from  him,  —  here  it  is." 

"  May  I  read  it  ?  " 

"  I  give  it  to  thee  for  that  very  purpose." 

Vaskovski  read  the  letter,  and  said  when  he  had  finished, 
"  I  have  always  liked  this  Bukatski ;  he  is  a  good  soul, 
but  —  he  has  a  little  something  here  !  "  Vaskovski  began, 
to  tap  his  forehead  with  his  fingers. 

*'  This  is  beginning  to  amuse  me,"  exclaimed  Pan 
Stanislav.  "Imagine  to  thyself,  Professor,  for  a  certain 
number  of  days  some  one  taps  himself  on  the  forehead  and 
says  of  some  one  of  our  acquaintance,  *  He  has  something 
here  ! '     A  charming  society  ! " 

"  If  it  is  a  little  so,  it  is  a  little  so  ! "  answered  Vaskovski, 
with  a  smile.  "  And  knowest  thou  what  this  is  ?  It  is  the 
usual  Aryan  trouble  of  soul ;  and  in  us,  as  Slavs,  there 
;s  more  of  that  than  in  the  west,  for  we  are  the  youngest 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  237 

Aryans,  and  therefore  neither  reason  nor  heart  have  settled 
yet  into  a  balance.  We  are  the  youngest  Aryans :  we  feel 
with  more  vividness;  we  take  everything  to  heart  more 
feverishly ;  and  we  arrange  ourselves  to  the  practice  of  life 
with  more  passion.  I  have  seen  much  ;  I  have  noticed  this 
for  a  long  time.  What  wonderful  natures !  Just  look,  for 
example,  the  German  students  can  carouse,  —  that  doesn't 
hinder  them  from  either  working  or  fashioning  themselves 
into  practical  people  ;  but  let  a  Slav  take  this  habit,  and  he 
is  lost,  he  will  do  himself  to  death !  And  so  with  ev^ery- 
thing.  A  German  will  become  a  pessimist  and  write  vol- 
umes on  this,  —  that  life  is  despair;  but  he  will  drink  beer 
meanwhile,  rear  children,  make  money,  cultivate  his  garden, 
and  sleep  under  a  feather  tick.  A  Slav  will  hang  himself, 
or  ruin  himself  with  mad  life,  with  excess,  smother  himself 
in  a  swamp  into  which  he  will  wade  purposely.  My  dear, 
I  remember  men  who  Byronized  themselves  to  death.  I 
have  seen  much  ;  I  have  seen  men  who,  for  example,  took 
a  fancy  to  peasants,  and  ended  with  drinking  vodka  iu 
peasant  dramshops.  There  is  no  measure  with  us,  and  there 
cannot  be,  for  in  us,  to  the  excessive  acceptance  of  every 
idea,  are  joined  frivolousness  and  knowest  what  vanity. 
0  my  God,  how  vain  we  are !  how  we  wish  to  push  our- 
selves forward  always,  so  that  we  may  be  admired  and  gazed 
at !  Take  this  Bukatski :  he  has  sunk  in  scepticism  up  to  liis 
ears  in  fact ;  in  pessimism.  Buddhism,  decadency,  and  in  what 
else  besides  —  do  I  know  ?  —  and  in  these  too  there  is  a 
chaos  at  present.  He  has  sunk  so  deeply  that  those  miasmas 
are  really  poisoning  him ;  but  dost  thou  think  that  with 
this  he  is  not  posing?  What  wonderful  natures!  those 
who  are  most  sincere,  who  have  the  most  vivid  feelings, 
taking  all  things  to  heart  most  powerfully,  —  are  at  the  same 
time  comedians.  When  a  man  thinks  of  this,  he  loves  them, 
but  he  wants  to  laugh  and  to  weep." 

Pan  Stanislav  recalled  how  during  his  first  visit  to 
Kremen  he  had  told  Marynia  of  his  Belgian  times,  when, 
living  with  some  young  Belgians,  occupying  himself  with 
pessimism,  he  noticed  finally  that  he  took  all  these  theo- 
ries far  more  to  heart  than  the  Belgians,  and  that,  through 
this,  these  theories  spoiled  his  life  more.  Hence  he  said 
now,  — 

"Professor,  thy  speech  is  truthful.  I  have  seen  such 
things  too,  and  the  devils  will  take  us  all." 

Vaskovski  fixed  his  mystic  eyes  on  the  frosty  window- 
panes,  and  said,  — 


238  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

"  No ;  some  one  else  will  take  us  all.  That  hotness  of 
blood,  that  capacity  for  accepting  an  idea,  are  the  great 
basis  of  the  mission  which  Christ  has  designed  for  the 
Slavs."  Here  Vaskovski  pointed  to  a  manuscript  stained 
by  the  birds,  and  said  mysteriously,  — 

"  I  am  going  with  that ;  that  is  the  labor  of  my  life. 
Dost  wish  I  will  read  from  it  ?" 

"As  God  lives,  I  have  n't  time;    it  is  late  already." 

"  True.  It  is  growing  dark.  Then  I  will  tell  thee  in 
brief  words.  Not  only  do  I  think,  but  I  believe  most  pro- 
foundly, that  the  Slavs  have  a  great  mission," 

Here  Vaskovski  halted,  began  to  rub  his  forehead,  and 
said,  — 

'<  What  a  wonderful  number,  —  '  three.'  There  is  some 
mystery  in  it." 

"  Thou  wert  going  to  speak  of  a  mission,"  said  Pan  Stan- 
islav,  disquieted. 

"  Never  fear ;  the  one  has  connection  with  the  other. 
There  are  three  worlds  in  Europe :  the  Roman,  the  German, 
and  the  Slav.  The  first  and  second  accomplished  what 
they  had  to  do.     The  future  is  for  that  third." 

"  And  what  has  that  third  to  do  ?  " 

"Social  conditions,  justice,  the  relations  of  man  to  man, 
the  life  of  individuals,  and  that  which  is  called  private  life, 
are  founded  on  Christian  science,  no  matter  what  comes. 
The  incoherence  of  men  has  deformed  this  science,  but  still 
everything  stands  on  it.  Only  the  first  half  of  the  problem 
is  solved,  —  the  first  epoch.  There  are  people  who  think 
that  Christianity  is  nearing  its  end.  No;  the  second 
epoch  is  about  to  begin.  Christ  is  in  the  life  of  individuals, 
but  not  in  history.  Dost  understand  ?  To  bring  Him  into 
history,  to  found  on  Him  the  relations  of  peoples,  to  create 
the  love  of  our  neighbor  in  the  historical  sense,  —  that  is 
the  mission  which  the  Slav  world  has  to  accomplish.  But 
the  Slavs  are  deficient  in  knowledge  yet ;  and  the  need  is  to 
open  their  eyes  to  this  mission." 

Pan  Stanislav  was  silent,  for  he  had  nothing  to  answer. 

Vaskovski  continued  :  "  This  is  what  I  have  been  pon- 
dering over  a  lifetime,  and  have  explained  in  this  work." 
Here  he  pointed  to  a  manuscript.  "  This  is  the  labor  of 
my  life.     Here  this  mission  is  outlined." 

"On  which  meanwhile  the  buntings  are  —  "  thought  Pan 
Stanislav,  "  And  surely  it  will  be  that  way  a  long  time." 
But  aloud  1)6  said,  "  And  it  is  thy  hope,  Professor,  that 
when  such  a  work  is  printed  —  " 


CHILDREN  OP  THE  SOIL.  239 

"  No  ;  I  hope  nothing.  I  have  a  little  love,  but  I  am  a 
man  too  insignificant,  too  weak  in  mind.  This  will  vanish, 
as  if  some  one  had  thrown  a  stone  into  water  ;  but  there 
will  be  a  circle.  Let  some  chosen  one  come  later  on ;  for 
I  know  that  what  is  predestined  will  not  fail.  He  will  not 
refuse  the  mission  even  if  he  wishes.  There  is  no  use  iu 
bending  men  from  their  predestination,  nor  in  changing  them 
by  force.  What  is  good  in  a  different  place  may  be  bad  in 
this,  for  God  made  us  for  another  use.  The  labor  is  vain. 
Vainly  too  wilt  thou  persuade  thyself  that  thy  only  wish  is 
to  gain  money ;  thou,  like  others,  must  follow  the  voice  of 
predestination  and  nature." 

"  I  am  following  it  indeed,  for  I  am  going  to  marry ; 
that  is,  if  I  be  accepted." 

Vaskovski  embraced  him. 

"  I  wish  thee  happiness  !  This  is  perfect !  May  God 
bless  thee !  I  know  that  the  little  maid  indicated  it  to  thee. 
But  remember  how  I  told  thee  that  she  had  something  to 
do,  and  that  she  would  not  die  till  she  had  done  it.  May 
God  give  her  light,  and  a  blessing  to  both  of  you!  Besides, 
Marynia  is  golden." 

"  And  to  thee,  beloved  Professor,  a  happy  journey  and  a 
successful  mission !  " 

"  And  to  thee,  thy  wish  for  thyself." 

"  What  do  I  wish  ?  "  asked  Pan  Stanislav,  joyfully. 
"  Well,  so,  half  a  dozen  little  missionaries." 

"  Ah  rogue  !  thou  wert  always  a  rogue  !  "  answered  Vas- 
kovski.    "But  fly  off,  fly  off;  I  will  visit  thee  once  more." 

Pan  Stanislav  flew  out,  sat  on  a  droshky,  and  gave  com- 
mand to  take  him  to  the  Plavitskis'.  On  the  road  he  was 
arranging  what  to  say  to  Marynia;  and  he  prepared  a  little 
speech,  partly  sentimental,  and  partly  sober,  as  befits  a 
positive  man  who  has  found  really  that  which  he  was  seek- 
ing, but  who  also  is  marrying  through  reason.  Evidently 
Marynia  looked  for  him  much  later;  for  there  was  no  light 
in  the  chamber,  though  the  last  gleam  of  twilight  was 
quenched.  Pan  Stanislav,  for  a  greeting,  began  to  kiss  both 
her  hands,  and,  forgetting  completely  his  wise  introduc- 
tion, asked  in  a  voice  somewhat  uncertain  and  excited,  — 

''  Have  you  received  the  flowers  and  the  letter  ?  " 

"I  have." 

"  And  did  you  guess  why  I  sent  them  ?  " 

Marynia's  heart  beat  with  such  force  that  she  could  not 
answer. 


240  CHILDREN  OF   THE   SOIL. 

Pan  Stanislav  inquired  further,  with  a  still  more  broken 
voice,  — 

*'Do  you  agree  to  Litka's  wish,  —  do  you  want  me  ?  " 

"  I  do,"  answered  Marynia. 

Then  he,  in  the  feeling  that  it  was  proper  to  thank  her, 
sought  words  in  vain  ;  but  he  pressed  her  hands  more  firmly 
to  his  lips,  and,  holding  them  both,  drew  her  gently  nearer 
and  nearer.  Suddenly  a  flame  seized  him  ;  he  put  his  arms 
around  her,  and  began  to  seek  her  lips  with  his  own.  But 
^larynia  turned  away  her  head  so  that  he  could  kiss  only 
the  hair  on  her  temples.  For  a  while  only  their  hurried 
breathing  was  heard  in  the  darkness ;  at  last  Marynia 
wrested  lierself  from  his  arms. 

A  few  moments  later  the  servant  brought  a  light.  Pan 
Stanislav,  recovering  himself,  was  alarmed  at  his  own  bold- 
ness, and  looked  into  jMarynia's  eyes  with  disquiet.  He 
was  sure  that  he  had  offended  her,  and  was  ready  to  beg 
her  forgiveness.  But  he  saw  with  wonder  that  there  were 
no  traces  of  anger  in  her  face.  Her  eyes  were  downcast, 
her  cheeks  flushed,  her  hair  disarranged  somewhat ;  it  was 
evident  that  she  was  disturbed  and,  as  it  were,  dazed,  but 
withal  only  penetrated  with  the  perfect  sweetness  of  that 
fear  which  comes  to  a  woman  who  is  loved,  and  who,  in 
passing  over  the  new  threshold,  feels  that  she  must  yield 
something  there,  but  who  passes  over  and  yields  because 
she  wishes.  She  loves,  and  she  is  obliged  to  yield  in  view 
of  the  rights  which  she  accords  to  the  man. 

But  a  vivid  feeling  of  gratitude  passed  through  Pan 
Stanislav  at  sight  of  her.  It  seemed  to  him  then  that 
he  loved  her  as  he  had  loved  of  old,  before  Litka's  death. 
He  felt  also  that  in  that  moment  he  could  not  be  too  deli- 
cate nor  too  magnanimous;  hence,  taking  her  hand  again, 
he  raised  it  to  his  lips  with  great  respect,  and  said, — 

"  I  know  that  I  am  not  worthy  of  you  ;  there  is  no  dis- 
cussion on  that  point.  God  knows  that  I  shall  always  do 
for  you  what  is  in  my  power." 

Marynia  looked  at  him  with  moist  eyes  and  said,  "  If 
only  you  are  happy." 

*'  Is  it  possible  not  to  be  happy  with  you  ?  I  saw 
that  from  the  first  moment  at  Kremen.  But  afterward, 
you  know,  everything  was  spoiled.  I  thought  you  would 
marry  Mashko,  and  how  I  worried  —  " 

"I  was  angry,  and  I  beg  forgiveness  —  my  dear  —  Pan 
Stas." 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  241 

"  This  very  day  the  professor  said,  *  Marynia  is  gold,'  " 
exclaimed  Pan  Stanislav,  with  great  ardor.  "  This  is  true ! 
all  say  the  same  —  not  only  gold,  but  a  treasure  —  a  very 
precious  one." 

Her  kindly  eyes  began  to  smile  at  him :  "Maybe  a  heavy 
one." 

"■  Let  not  your  head  ache  over  that.  I  have  strength 
enough ;  I  shall  be  able  to  bear  it.  Now  at  least  I  have 
something  to  live  for." 

"  And  I,"  answered  Marynia. 

*'  Do  you  know  that  I  have  been  here  already  to-day  ?  I 
sent  chrysanthemums  later.  After  yesterday's  letter  to  you, 
I  said  to  myself,  '  That  is  simply  an  angel,  and  I  should 
lack,  not  only  heart,  but  common-sense  to  delay  any 
longer.' " 

"  I  was  so  alarmed  about  that  duel,  and  so  unhappy. 
But  is  it  all  over  now  ?  " 

"  I  give  you  my  word,  most  thoroughly." 

Marynia  wanted  to  make  further  inquiries,  but  at  that 
moment  Plavitski  came.  They  heard  him  cough  a  little, 
put  away  his  cane,  and  remove  his  overcoat ;  he  opened  the 
door  then,  and,  seeing  them  alone,  said,  — 

"So  you  are  sitting  all  by  yourselves  ? " 

But  5[arynia  ran  up  to  him,  and  placing  her  hands  on  his 
shoulders,  and  putting  forth  her  forehead  for  a  kiss,  said,  — 

"As  betrothed,  papa."    ' 

Plavitski  stepped  back  a  little  and  inquired,  "  What  dost 
thou  say  ?  " 

"  I  say,"  answered  she,  looking  quietly  into  his  eyes, 
"  that  Pan  Stanislav  wishes  to  take  me,  and  that  I  am  very 
happy." 

Pan  Stanislav  approached,  embraced  Plavitski  heartily, 
and  said,  "  I  do  with  uncle's  consent  and  permission." 

But  Plavitski  exclaimed,  "  Oh,  my  child  ! "  and,  advanc- 
ing with  tottering  step  to  a  sofa,  he  sat  on  it  heavily. 
"Wait  a  moment,"  said  he,  with  emotion.  "It  will  pass  — 
do  not  mind  me  —  my  children  !  If  that  is  needed,  I  bless 
you  with  my  whole  heart." 

And  he  blessed  them ;  wherewith  still  greater  emotion 
mastered  him,  for,  after  all,  he  loved  Marynia  really.  The 
voice  stuck  in  his  throat  repeatedly;  and  the  two  young 
people  heard  only  such  broken  expressions  as,  for  example, 
"  Some  corner  near  you  —  for  the  old  man,  who  worked  all 
his  life  —  an  only  child  —  an  orphan." 


242  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

They  pacified  him  together,  and  pacified  him  so  well 
that  half  an  hour  later  Plavitski  struck  Pan  Stanislav  on 
the  shoulder  suddenly,  and  said,  — 

"  Oh  robber  !  Thou  wert  thinking  of  Marynia,  and  I 
was  thinking  thee  a  little  —  "  He  finished  the  rest  in  Pan 
Stanislav's  ear,  who  grew  red  with  indignation,  and 
answered,  — 

"  How  could  uncle  suppose  such  a  thing  ?  If  any  one 
else  had  dared  to  say  that  — " 

"  Well,  well,  well !  "  answered  Plavitski,  smiling ;  "  there 
is  ne  smoke  without  fire." 

That  evening  Marynia,  taking  farewell  of  Pan  Stanislav, 
asked,  — - 

"  You  will  not  refuse  me  one  thing  ?  " 

"  Kothing  that  you  command." 

"  I  have  said  long  to  myself  that  if  a  moment  like  the 
present  should  come,  we  would  go  to  Litka  together." 

"  Ah,  my  dear  lady,"  answered  Pan  Stanislav ;  and  she 
continued,  — 

"  I  know  not  what  people  will  say ;  but  what  do  we  care 
for  the  world  —  what  indeed  ?  " 

"  Nothing.  I  am  thankful  to  you  from  my  heart  and 
soul  for  the  thought  —     My  dear  lady  — my  Marynia  !  " 

"  I  believe  that  she  looks  at  us  and  prays  for  us." 

"  Then  she  is  our  little  patroness." 

"  Good-night." 

«  Good-night." 

"  Till  to-morrow." 

"  Till  to-morrow,"  said  he,  kissing  her  hands,  —  "  till  after 
to-morrow,  daily ; "  and  here  he  added  in  a  low  voice, 
"  Until  our  marriage." 

"  Yes,"  answered  Marynia. 

Pan  Stanislav  went  out.  In  his  head  and  in  his  heart 
he  felt  a  great  whirl  of  feelings,  thoughts,  impressions, 
above  which  towered  one  great  feeling, — that  something 
unheard  of  in  its  decisiveness  had  happened ;  that  his  fate 
had  been  settled;  that  the  time  of  reckoning,  of  wavering 
and  changing,  had  passed  ;  that  he  must  begin  a  new  life. 
And  that  feeling  was  not  unpleasant  to  him,  —  nay,  it  verged 
on  ft  kind  of  delight,  especially  when  he  remembered  how 
he  had  kissed  Marynia's  hair  and  temples.  That  which 
was  lacking  in  his  feelings  shrank  and  vanished  almost 
utterly  in  this  remembrance ;  and  it  seemed  to  Pan  Stanis- 
lav that  he  had  found  everything  requisite  to  perfect  happi- 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  243 

ness.  "  I  shall  never  grow  sated  with  this,"  thought  he ;  and 
it  seemed  to  liim  simply  impossible  that  he  should.  He 
remembered  then  the  goodness  of  Marynia,  and  how  re- 
liable she  was  ;  how  on  such  a  heart  and  character  he  might 
build :  how  in  living  with  her  nothing  could  ever  threaten 
him ;  how  she  would  not  trample  on  any  quality  of  his, 
nor  make  it  of  no  avail ;  how  she  would  receive  as  gold 
that  which  in  him  was  gold ;  how  she  would  live  for  him, 
not  for  herself.  And,  meditating  in  this  way,  he  asked 
what  better  could  he  find  ?  and  he  wondered  indeed  at  his 
recent  hesitation.  Still  he  felt  that  what  was  coming  was 
a  change  so  gigantic,  so  immensely  decisive,  that  some- 
where at  the  bottom,  in  the  deepest  corner  of  his  soul, 
there  was  roused  a  kind  of  alarm  before  this  unknown 
happiness.  But  he  did  not  hesitate.  "I  am  neither  a 
coward  nor  an  imbecile,"  thought  he.  "  It  is  necessary  to 
go  ahead,  and  I  will  go." 

Keturning  home,  he  looked  at  Litka ;  and  immediately 
there  opened  before  him,  as  it  were,  a  new,  clear  horizon. 
He  thought  that  he  might  have  children,  have  such  a 
bright  dear  head  as  this  —  and  with  Marynia.  At  the  very 
thought  his  heart  began  to  beat  with  greater  life,  and  to  the 
impulse  of  thoughts  was  joined  such  a  solace  of  life  as  he 
had  not  known  previously.  He  felt  almost  perfectly  happy. 
Looking  by  chance  at  Bukatski's  letter,  which  he  took  from 
his  pocket  before  undressing,  he  laughed  so  heartily  that 
the  servant  looked  in  with  astonishment.  Pan  Stanislav 
wished  to  tell  him  that  he  was  going  to  marry.  He  fell 
asleep  only  toward  morning,  but  rose  sprightly  and  fresh ; 
after  dressing,  he  flew  to  his  office  to  announce  the  news 
to  Bigiel  at  the  earliest. 

Bigiel  embraced  him,  then,  with  his  usual  deliberation, 
proceeded  to  consider  the  affair,  and  said  finally, — 

''Reasoning  the  matter  over,  this  is  the  wisest  thing 
that  thou  hast  done  in  life ;  "  then,  pointing  to  a  box  of 
papers,  he  added,  "  Those  contracts  ought  to  be  profitable, 
but  thine  is  still  better." 

"  Is  n't  it  ?  "  exclaimed  Pan  Stanislav,  boastfully. 

"  I  will  flv  to  tell  my  wife,"  said  Bigiel, ''  for  I  cannot  con- 
tain mvself";  but  go  thou  home,  and  go  for  good.  I  will  take 
thy  place  till  the  wedding,  and  during  the  honeymoon. 

"Very  well;  I  will  hurry  to  see  Mashko,  and  then 
Marynia  and   I   will  go  to  Litka." 

"  That  is  due  from  you  both  to  her." 


244  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

Pan  Stanislav  bought  more  flowers  on  the  way,  added  a 
note  to  them  that  he  would  come  soon,  and  dropped  in  to 
see  Mashko.  Mashko  was  notably  better,  under  the  care 
of  Pani  Kraslavski,  and  was  looking  for  her  arrival  every 
moment.  When  he  had  heard  the  news,  he  pressed  Pan 
Stanislav's  hand  with  emotion,  and  said,  — 

"I  will  tell  thee  only  one  thing, — I  do  not  know 
whether  she  will  be  happy  with  thee,  but  certainly  thou 
wilt  be  happy  with  her." 

"Because  women  are  better  than  men,"  answered  Pan 
Stanislav.  "  After  what  has  happened  to  thee,  I  hope  that 
thou  art  of  this  opinion." 

"I  confess  that  to  this  moment  I  cannot  recover  from 
astonishment.  They  are  both  better,  and  more  mysterious. 
Imagine  to  thyself  — "  Here  Mashko  halted,  as  if  hesi- 
tating whether  to  continue. 

"What?"  inquired  Pan  Stanislav. 

"Well,  thou  art  a  discreet  man,  and  hast  given  me, 
besides,  such  proofs  of  friendship  that  there  may  not  be 
secrets  between  us.  Imagine,  then,  that  yesterday,  after 
thy  departure,  I  received  an  anonymous  letter.  Here,  as 
thou  art  aware,  the  noble  custom  of  writing  such  letters 
prevails.  In  the  letter  were  tidings  that  Papa  Kraslavski 
exists,  is  alive,  and  in  good  health." 

"Which,  again,  may  be  gossip." 

"But  also  may  not  be.  He  lives,  probably,  in  America. 
I  received  the  letter  while  Pani  Kraslavski  was  here.  I 
said  nothing;  but  after  a  time,  when  she  had  examined 
those  portraits,  and  began  to  inquire  of  my  more  distant 
family  relations,  I  asked  her,  in  turn,  how  long  she  had 
been  a  widow.     She  answered,  — 

"*  My  daughter  and  I  have  been  alone  in  the  world  nine 
years;  and  those  are  sad  events,  of  which  I  do  not  wish 
to  speak  to-day. ' 

"  Observe  that  she  did  not  say  directly  when  her  husband 
died." 

"  And  what  dost  thou  think?  " 

"I  think  that  if  papa  is  alive,  he  must  be  that  kind  of 
figure  of  which  people  do  not  speak,  and  that  in  truth 
those  may  be  '  sad  events. ' " 

"The  secret  would  have  come  out  long  ago." 

"Those  ladies  lived  abroad  some  years.  Who  knows? 
That,  however,  will  not  change  my  plans  in  any  way.  If 
Pan  Kraslavski  is  living  in  America,  and  does  not  return, 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  245 

he  must  have  reasons;  it  is  as  if  he  were  not  in  the  world, 
then.  In  fact,  I  am  gaining  the  hope  now  that  my  mar- 
riage will  come  to  pass,  for  I  understand  that  when  people 
have  something  to  hide,  they  exact  less." 

"Pardon  my  curiosity,"  said  Pan  Stanislav,  taking  his 
hat;  "but  with  me  it  is  a  question  of  my  money,  and  now 
touching  the  Kraslavskis.  Dost  thou  know  surely  that 
these  ladies  have  money?" 

"It  seems  that  they  have  much;  still,  I  am  playing 
against  a  card  somewhat  hidden.  It  is  likely  that  they 
have  much  ready  money.  The  mother  told  me  repeatedly 
that  her  daughter  would  not  need  to  look  to  her  husband's 
property.  I  saw  their  safe;  they  keep  a  big  house.  I 
know  nearly  all  the  money-lenders  —  Jews  and  non-Jews 
—  in  Warsaw,  and  I  know  surely  that  these  ladies  are  not 
in  debt  a  copper  to  any  one ;  as  thou  knowest  thyself,  they 
have  a  nice  villa  not  far  from  the  Bigiels.  They  do  not 
live  on  their  capital,  for  they  are  too  prudent." 

"Thou  hast  no  positive  figures,  however?" 

"I  tried  to  get  them,  but  in  roundabout  fashion.  Not 
being  too  certain  of  my  connection  with  the  ladies,  I  could 
not  insist  overmuch.  It  was  given  me  to  understand  that 
there  would  be  two  hundred  thousand  rubles,  and  perhaps 
more." 

Pan  Stanislav  took  leave,  and  on  the  way  to  the  Pla- 
vitskis'  thought,  "  All  this  is  a  kind  of  mystery,  a  kind  of 
darkness,  a  kind  of  risk.     I  prefer  Marynia." 

Half  an  hour  later  he  was  driving  with  Marynia  to  the 
cemetery,  to  Litka.  The  day  was  warm,  as  in  spring,  but 
gray;  the  city  seemed  sullen  and  dirty.  In  the  cemetery 
the  melting  snow  had  slipped  in  patches  to  the  ground 
from  the  graves,  and  covered  the  yellow,  half-decayed 
grass.  From  the  arras  of  crosses  and  leafless  tree-branches 
large  drops  were  falling,  which,  borne  from  time  to  time 
by  gusts  of  warm  wind,  struck  the  faces  of  Pan  Stanislav 
and  Marynia.  These  gusts  pulled  Marynia's  dress,  so  that 
she  had  to  hold  it.  They  stopped  at  last  before  Litka's 
grave. 

And  here  all  was  wet,  sloppy,  gloomy,  half-stripped  of 
the  melting  snow.  The  thought  that  that  child,  once  so 
cared  for,  so  loved,  and  so  petted,  was  lying  in  that  damp 
dungeon  darkness,  could  hardly  find  a  place  in  Pan  Stanis- 

"All  this  may  be  natural,"  thought  he;  "but  it  is  not 


246  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

possible  to  be  reconciled  with  death."  And,  in  truth, 
whenever  he  visited  Litka,  he  returned  from  the  cemetery 
in  a  kind  of  irrepressible  rebellion,  with  a  species  of  pas- 
sionate protest  in  his  soul.  These  thoughts  began  to  rend 
him  in  that  moment  also.  It  seemed  to  him  simply  ter- 
rible to  love  Litka,  and  to  reconcile  his  love  with  the  knowl- 
edge that  a  few  steps  lower  down  she  is  lying  there,  black 
and  decaying.  "  I  ought  not  to  come,"  said  he  to  himself, 
"for  I  grow  mad,  lose  my  head  here,  and  lose  every 
basis  of  life."  But,  above  all,  he  suffered,  for,  if  it  is 
impossible  not  to  think  of  death,  it  is  equally  impossible 
to  explain  it;  hence  everything  touching  it,  which  comes 
to  the  head,  is,  in  so  far  as  a  man  does  not  stretch  forth 
his  hand  toward  simple  faith,  at  once  despairing  and 
shallow,  trivial  and  common.  "For  me  there  is  a  greater 
question  here  than  that  of  existence  itself,  but  I  am  only 
able  to  answer  with  a  commonplace.  A  perfectly  vicious 
circle ! " 

And  it  was  true;  for  if  he  considered,  for  example,  that 
at  the  first  thought  of  death  everything  becomes  smoke, 
and  he  felt  that  unfortunately  it  does,  he  felt  at  the  same 
time  that  thousands  of  people  had  come  to  that  thought 
before  he  had,  and  that  no  one  had  found  in  it  either 
solace  or  even  such  satisfaction  as  the  discovery  of  a  truth 
gives.  Everything  that  he  could  say  to  himself  was  at 
once  terrifying  and  petty.  It  was  easy  for  him  to  under- 
stand that  the  whole  life  of  man,  general  history,  all  phi- 
losophies, are  at  bottom  merely  a  struggle  with  incessant 
death,  — a  struggle  despairing,  a  struggle  utterly  senseless, 
and  at  the  same  time  infinitely  foolish  and  devoid  of  object, 
for  it  is  lost  in  advance.  But  such  reasoning  could  not 
bring  him  any  comfort,  since  it  was  merely  the  confirma- 
tion of  a  new  vicious  circle. 

For  if  the  one  object  of  all  human  efforts  is  life,  and  the 
only  result  death,  the  nonsense  passes  measure,  and  simply 
could  not  be  accepted,  were  it  not  for  that  loathsome  and 
pitiless  reality,  which  turns  beings  beloved  and  living  into 
rotten  matter. 

Pan  Stanislav,  during  every  visit  to  the  cemetery, 
poisoned  himself  with  such  thoughts.  To-day,  while 
going,  he  thought  that  the  presence  of  Marynia  would 
liberate  him  from  them;  meanwhile,  rather  the  opposite 
happened.  Litka's  death,  which  had  broken  in  him  trust 
in  the  sense  and  moral  object  of  life,  undermined  in  him 


CHILDREN  OF  THE   SOIL.  247 

also  that  first,  former  love  for  Marynia,  which  was  so 
naive  and  free  of  doubt;  now,  when  with  Marynia,  he  was 
standing  at  Litka's  grave,  when  that  death,  which  had  begun 
to  be  only  a  memory,  had  become  again  a  thing  almost 
tangible,  its  poisoning  effect  was  increasing  anew.  Again 
it  seemed  to  him  that  all  life,  consequently  love,  too,  is 
merely  an  error,  and  the  processes  of  life  utterly  useless 
and  vain.  If  above  life  there  is  neither  reason  nor  mercy, 
why  toil,  why  love  and  marry?  Is  it  to  have  children, 
become  attached  to  them  with  every  drop  of  one's  blood, 
and  then  look  on  helplessly,  while  that  bliud,  stupid, 
insulting,  brutal  force  chokes  them,  as  a  wolf  chokes  a 
lamb,  and  come  to  their  graves,  and  think  that  they  are 
mouldering  in  damp  and  darkness  ?  See,  Litka  is  down 
there. 

A  day  wonderfully  gloomy  only  strengthened  the  bitter- 
ness of  these  feelings.  At  times,  during  his  previous 
visits,  the  cemetery  had  seemed  to  Pan  Stanislav  a  kind 
of  great  void  in  which  life  was  dissolving,  but  in  which 
every  misfortune,  too,  was  dissolving,  —  something  enor- 
mously dreamy,  soothing.  To-day  there  was  no  rest  in  it. 
Pieces  of  snow  fell  from  the  trees  and  gravestones;  ravens 
pushed  about  among  the  wet  trees  with  their  croaking. 
Sudden  and  strong  blasts  of  wind  hurled  drops  of  moisture 
from  the  branches,  and,  driving  them  about,  produced  a 
certain  desperate  struggle  around  the  stone  crosses,  which 
stood  lirm  and  indifferent. 

Just  then  Marynia  ceased  praying,  and  said,  with  that 
slightly  suppressed  voice  with  which  people  speak  in 
cemeteries,  — 

"Now  her  soul  must  be  near  us." 

Pan  Stanislav  made  no  answer;  but  he  thought  first  that 
he  and  Marynia  were  beings  as  if  from  two  distinct  worlds, 
and  then  that  if  there  were  even  a  particle  of  truth  in  what 
she  said,  all  his  mental  struggles  would  be  less  important 
than  that  melting  snow.  "In  such  case,"  said  he  to  him- 
self, "there  is  dying  and  there  are  cemeteries,  but  there 
is  simply  no  death." 

Marynia  began  to  place  on  the  grave  immortelles,  which 
she  had  bought  at  the  gate,  and  he  to  think  hurriedly, 
rather  by  the  aid  of  his  impressions  than  his  ideas,  "In 
my  world  there  is  no  answer  to  anything;  there  are  only 
vicious  circles,  which  lead  to  the  precipice." 

And  this  struck  him,  —  that  if  such  ideas  of  death  as 


248  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

Marynia  had,  did  not  come  from  faith,  or  if  they  had  been 
unknown  altogether,  and  if  all  at  once  some  philosopher 
had  formulated  them  as  a  hypothesis,  the  hypothesis  would 
be  recognized  as  the  most  genial  of  the  genial,  because  it 
explains  everything,  gives  an  answer  to  questions,  gives 
light,  not  only  to  life,  but  to  death,  which  is  darkness. 
Mankind  would  kneel  with  admiration  before  such  a  phi- 
losopher and  such  a  scientific  theory. 

On  the  other  hand,  he  felt  that  still  something  of  Litka 
was  there  with  them.  She  herself  was  falling  into  dust, 
but  something  had  survived  her;  there  remained,  as  it 
were,  currents  of  her  thought,  of  her  will,  of  her  feeling. 
This, — that  she  had  brought  him  to  Marynia;  that  they 
were  betrothed ;  that  they  were  then  standing  at  her  grave ; 
that  they  were  to  be  united;  that  their  lives  would  go  on 
together;  that  they  would  have  children,  who  in  their 
turn  would  live  and  love  and  increase,  —  what  was  that, 
if  not  such  a  current,  which,  coming  forth  from  that  child, 
might  go  on  and  on  through  eternity,  renewing  itself  in  an 
endless  chain  of  phenomena?  How  then  understand  that 
from  a  mortal  being  should  issue  an  immortal  and  cease- 
less energy?  Marynia,  in  the  simplicity  of  her  faith,  had 
found  an  answer;  Pan  Stanislav  had  not. 

And  still  Marynia  was  right.  Litka  was  with  them. 
Through  Pan  Stanislav's  head  there  flew  at  that  moment 
a  certain  hypothesis,  dim,  and  not  fixed  in  close  thought 
yet,  —  a  hypothesis,  that,  perhaps,  all  which  man  thinks 
during  life,  all  that  he  wishes,  all  that  he  loves,  is  a  hun- 
dred times  more  intangible,  a  hundred  times  more  subtile, 
than  ether,  from  which  rises  an  astral  existence,  conscious 
of  itself,  either  eternal  or  successively  born  into  beings 
more  and  more  perfect,  more  subtile,  on  to  infinity.  And 
it  seemed  to  him  that  atoms  of  thought  and  feeling  might 
collect  into  a  separate  individuality,  specially  because  they 
came  forth  from  one  brain  or  one  heart;  that  they  are 
related, — hence  tend  to  one  another  with  the  same  mys- 
terious principle  by  which  physical  elements  combine  to 
form  physical  individualities. 

At  present  he  had  not  time  to  meditate  over  this,  but  it 
seemed  to  him  that  he  had  caught  something,  that  in  the 
veil  before  his  eyes,  he  saw,  as  it  were,  an  opening  that 
might  turn  out  to  be  a  deception ;  but  at  the  moment,  when 
he  felt  that  still  Litka  was  with  them,  he  thought  that  her 
presence  could  be  understood  only  in  that  manner. 


CHILDREN  OF  THE   SOIL.  249 

Just  then  some  funeral  came,  for,  in  the  tower,  which 
stood  in  the  middle  of  the  cemetery,  the  bell  began  to 
sound.  Pan  Stanislav  gave  Marynia  his  arm,  and  they 
went  towards  the  gate.  On  the  way  Marynia,  thinking 
evidently  more  about  Litka,  said,  — 

"Now  I  am  certain  that  we  shall  be  happy." 

And  she  leaned  more  on  Pan  Stanislav's  arm,  for  the 
gusts  of  wind  had  become  so  violent  that  it  was  difficult 
for  her  to  resist  them.  One  of  these  carried  her  veil 
around  his  neck.  Reality  began  to  call  to  him.  He 
pressed  the  arm  of  the  living  woman  to  his  side,  and  felt 
that  loving,  if  it  cannot  ward  away  death,  can  at  least 
harmonize  life. 

When  they  were  seated  in  the  carriage,  he  took  Marynia's 
hand,  and  did  not  let  it  go  during  the  whole  way.  At 
moments  solace  returned  to  him  almost  perfectly,  for  he 
thought  that  that  maiden,  true  and  kind  to  the  core  of  her 
nature,  would  be  able  to  make  good  what  was  lacking  in 
his  feeling,  and  revivify  in  him  that  which  was  palsied. 
"My  wife!  my  wife!"  repeated  he,  in  mind,  looking  at 
her;  and  her  honest,  clear  eyes  answered,  "Thine." 

When  they  arrived  at  the  house,  Plavitski  had  not 
returned  from  his  walk  before  dinner;  they  were  all  by 
themselves  then.  Pan  Stanislav  sat  down  by  her  side, 
and  under  the  influence  of  those  thoughts  which  had  passed 
through  his  head  on  the  way,  he  said,  — 

"You  declared  that  Litka  was  with  us;  that  is  true.  I 
have  always  returned  from  the  cemetery  as  if  cut  down; 
but  it  is  well  that  we  were  there." 

"It  is;  for  we  went  as  if  for  a  blessing,"  said  Marynia. 

"I  have  that  same  impression;  and,  besides,  it  seems  to 
me  as  if  we  were  united  already,  or,  at  least,  were  nearer 
than  before." 

"True;  and  this  will  be  both  a  sad  and  a  pleasant 
remembrance." 

He  took  her  hand  again,  and  said, — 

"  If  you  believe  that  we  shall  be  happy,  why  defer  happi- 
ness? My  kind,  my  best,  I,  too,  trust  that  it  will  be  well 
with  us;  'let  us  not  defer  the  day.  We  have  to  begin  a 
new  life;  let  us  begin  it  promptly." 

"Make  the  decision.     I  am  yours  with  all  my  soul. 

Then  he  drew  her  toward  him,  as  he  had  the  day  before, 
and  began  to  seek  her  lips  with  his  lips;  and  she,  whether 


250  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL, 

under  the  influence  of  the  thought  that  his  rights  were 
greater  on  that  day,  or  under  the  influence  of  awakening 
thoughts,  did  not  turn  her  head  away  any  more,  but,  half 
closing  her  eyes,  she  herself  gave  him  her  lips,  as  if  they 
had  been  thirsty  a  long  time. 


CHILimEN  OF  THE  SOIL.  251 


CHAPTER  XXVn. 

For  Pan  Stanislav  began  now  the  period  of  ante-nuptial 
cares  and  preparations.  He  had,  it  is  true,  a  dwelling 
furnished  for  more  than  a  year, — that  is,  from  a  period 
before  he  knew  Marynia.  At  that  time  he  made  no  denial 
when  Bukatski  laughed  at  the  lodgings,  seeing  in  them  a 
proof  of  how  anxious  his  friend  was  to  marry.  "Yes," 
said  he;  "I  have  property  enough  to  permit  this.  I  think, 
too,  that  I  am  doing  something  toward  it,  and  that  my 
plans  are  growing  real." 

Bukatski  said  this  was  prevision  worthy  of  praise,  and 
wondered  that  a  man  of  such  foresight  did  not  engage  also 
a  nurse  and  a  midwife.  At  times  conversation  of  this 
kind  ended  in  a  quarrel,  for  Pan  Stanislav  could  not  let 
any  one  deny  him  sound  judgment  in  worldly  matters. 
Bukatski  affirmed  that  it  was  bird  romance,  worthy  of  a 
bunting,  to  start  with  building  a  poetic  nest.  One  friend 
contended  that  there  could  be  no  wiser  method  than  to 
build  a  cage,  if  you  want  a  bird;  the  other  retorted  that 
if  the  bird  were  not  found  yet,  and  the  chase  was  uncer- 
tain, the  cage  was  a  joke  on  one's  appetite.  It  ended  with 
allusions  to  the  slim  legs  of  Bukatski,  which,  for  him, 
made  the  chase  after  birds  of  all  kinds  impossible,  even 
though  they  were  wingless.  Bukatski,  on  such  occasions, 
fell  into  excellent  humor. 

Now,  however,  when  the  cage  was  ready,  and  the  bird 
not  only  caught,  but  willing,  there  remained  so  much  to 
be  done  that  Pan  Stanislav  was  seized  more  than  once  by 
surprise  that  an  act  so  simple  by  nature  as  marriage, 
should  be  so  complex  in  civilized  societies.  It  seemed  to 
him  that  if  no  one  has  the  right  to  look  into  the  moral 
side  of  tlie  connection,  since  it  is  the  outcome  of  genuine 
free-will,  the  formal  side  should  be  looked  at  still  less. 

But  he  thouglit  so  because  he  was  not  a  law-giver,  and 
was  an  impulsive  man  made  impatient  by  the  need  of 
getting  "papers."  Once  he  had  resolved  on  marriage,  he 
ceased  to  think  or  to  analyze,  and  hastened,  as  a  man  of 
action,  to  execute. 


252  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

He  was  even  filled  more  than  once  with  pride,  on  com- 
paring himself  with  such  a  man,  for  instance,  as  Plo- 
shovski,  whose  history  had  been  circling  from  mouth  to 
mouth  in  society,  before  people  had  begun  to  learn  it  from 
his  diary.  "But  I  am  of  different  metal,"  thought  Pan 
Stanislav,  with  a  certain  satisfaction.  At  moments,  again, 
when  he  recalled  Ploshovski's  figure,  his  noble,  delicate, 
and  also  firmly  defined  profile,  his  refinement,  subtlety, 
and  mental  suppleness,  his  rare  gift  of  winning  people, 
especially  women,  it  occurred  to  him  that  he,  Polanyetski, 
is  a  less  refined  type,  less  noble,  and,  in  general,  a  man  cut 
from  ruder  materials.  But  to  this  he  answered  that  evi- 
dently, in  the  face  of  conditions  in  life  and  the  resistance 
required  by  it,  too  much  refinement  is  simply  fatal  to  mind 
as  well  as  body.  In  himself  he  saw  also  far  more  ability 
for  living.  "Finally,"  said  he,  *'I  can  be  of  some  service, 
while  he  would  have  been  good  only  on  social  shelves  with 
curiosities.  I  am  able  to  win  bread;  he  was  able  only  to 
make  pellets  out  of  bread  when  baked.  I  know  how,  and 
I  know  well  how,  to  color  cotton;  he  only  knew  how  to 
color  women's  cheeks.  But  what  a  difference  between  us 
with  reference  to  women !  That  man  over-analyzed  his 
life  and  the  life  of  the  woman  whom  he  loved;  he  de- 
stroyed her  and  himself  by  not  being  able  to  escape  from 
the  doubt  whether  he  loved  her  sufficiently.  I,  too,  have 
doubts  whether  my  love  is  perfect;  but  I  take  my  little 
woman,  and  should  be  an  imbecile,  not  a  man,  to  fear  the 
future,  and  fail  to  squeeze  from  it  in  simple  fashion  what 
good  and  happiness  it  will  let  me  squeeze." 

Here  Pan  Stanislav,  though  he  had  forsworn  analysis, 
began  to  analyze,  not  himself,  it  is  true,  but  Mar^mia. 
He  permitted  this,  however,  only  because  he  foresaw  cer- 
tainly favorable  conclusions ;  he  understood  that,  in  calcu- 
lating the  future  of  two  people,  good-will  on  one  side  is  not 
sufficient,  and  becomes  nothing,  if  good-  will  fails  on  the 
other.  But  he  was  convinced  that  in  taking  Marynia  he 
was  not  taking  a  dead  heart.  Marynia  had  brought  to  the 
world  not  only  an  honest  nature,  but  from  years  of  child- 
hood she  had  been  in  contact  with  work  and  with  condi- 
tions in  which  she  was  forced  to  forget  herself,  so  as  to 
think  of  others.  Besides,  there  was  above  her  the  memory 
of  a  mother,  a  kind  of  endless  blessing  from  beyond  the 
grave,  —  a  mother  whose  calmness,  candor,  and  upright- 
ness, whose  life,  full  of  trials,  were  remembered  to  the 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  253 

present  with  the  utmost  respect,  throughout  the  whole 
region  of  Kremen.  Pan  Stanislav  knew  this,  and  was 
persuaded  that,  building  on  the  heart  and  character  of 
Marynia,  he  was  building  on  a  foundation  well-nigh  im- 
movable. More  than  once  he  recalled  the  words  of  a 
woman,  an  acquaintance  and  friend  of  his  mother's,  who, 
when  some  one  asked  her  whether  she  was  more  anxious 
about  the  future  of  her  sons  than  her  daughters,  answered, 
"  I  think  only  of  my  sons ;  for  my  daughters,  in  the  worst 
case,  can  be  only  unhappy." 

So  it  is  !  School  and  the  world  rear  sons,  and  both 
may  make  them  scoundrels;  daughters,  in  whom  the  home 
ingrafts  honorableness,  can,  in  the  worst  case,  be  only 
unhappy.  Pan  Stanislav  understood  that  this  was  true 
with  regard  to  Mai-ynia.  So  that  if  he  analyzed  her,  his 
analysis  was  rather  the  examination  of  a  jeweller  and  his 
admiration  for  his  gems,  than  a  scientific  method  intended 
to  reach  results  unknown  and  unexpected. 

Still  he  quarrelled  once  with  Marynia  very  seriously, 
because  of  a  letter  from  Vaskovski,  which  Pan  Stanislav 
received  from  Rome  a  few  weeks  after  the  professor's 
departure,  and  which  he  read  in  its  integrity  to  Marynia. 
This  letter  was  as  follows :  — 

My  Dear,  —  I  am  lodging  at  Via  Tritone,  Pension  Fran^aise. 
Visit  my  Warsaw  lodgings;  see  if  Snopchinski  looks  after  my  little 
boys  properly,  and  if  the  birds  of  Saint  Francis  have  seeds  and  water 
in  plenty.  VVhen  spring  comes,  it  will  be  needful  to  open  Ihe  windows 
and  cages  ;  whichever  bird  wishes  to  stay,  let  it  stay,  and  whichever 
one  wishes  to  go,  let  it  fly.  The  boys  of  the  genus  homo  sapiens 
should  have  good  food,  since  1  left  money  therefor,  and  besides  little 
moralizing,  but  much  love.  Snopchinski  is  a  worthy  man,  but  a 
hypochondriac.  He  says  this  comes  from  snows.  When  he  is  at- 
tacked by  what  he  calls  "chandra,"  he  looks  for  whole  weeks  on  his 
boots,  and  is  silent ;  but  one  must  talk  with  little  boys,  to  give  them 
confidence.     This  is  all  that  touches  Warsaw. 

I  am  printing  here  in  French,  in  the  typography  of  the  journal 
"  L'ltalie,"  that  work  of  mine  which  I  discussed  with  thee.  They 
laugh  at  my  French  a  little,  and  at  me,  but  I  am  used  to  that. 
Bukatski  came  here.  He  is  a  good,  beloved  fellow  !  he  has  grown 
strange  to  the  last  degree,  and  says  that  he  drags  his  feet  after  him, 
though  I  have  not  noticed  it.  He  loves  both  Marynia  and  thee,  and 
indeed  every  one,  though  he  denies  it.  But  when  he  begins  to  talk, 
one's  ears  wither.  May  the  Lord  God  bless  thee,  dear  lx)y,  and  thy 
honest  Marvnia  !  T  should  like  to  be  at  thy  wedding,  but  I  know  not 
whether  I  shall  finish  mv  work  before  Easter ;  listen,  therefore,  now 
to  what  I  tell  thee,  and  know  that  I  write  this  letter  to  that  end.    Dn 


254  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

not  think  that  the  old  man  is  talking  just  to  talk.  Thouknowest,  be- 
sides, that  I  have  been  a  teacher ;  that  the  inheritance  from  my  brother 
freed  me  from  that  occupation  ;  that  I  have  had  experience  and  have 
seen  things.  If  ye  have  children,  do  not  torture  them  with  knowl- 
edofe  ;  let  them  grow  up  as  God  wills.  I  might  stop  here ;  but  thou 
art  fond  of  figures,  hence  I  will  give  thee  figures.  A  little  child  has 
as  many  hours  of  labor  as  a  grown  man  in  office,  with  this  difference, 
that  the  man  talks  during  office  hours  with  his  colleagues,  or  smokes 
cigarettes  ;  the  child  must  strain  its  attention  continually,  or  lose  the 
clew  of  lessons,  and  cease  to  understand  what  is  said  to  it.  The 
man  goes  home  when  his  work  is  done ;  the  child  must  prepare  for 
the  following  day,  which  takes  four  hours  from  a  capable  child,  from 
one  less  capable  six.  Add  to  this,  that  poorer  pupils  give  lessons 
frecjuently,  the  rich  take  them,  which,  added,  gives  twelve  hours. 
Twelve  hours'  labor  for  a  child !  Dost  understand  that,  my  dear  ? 
Canst  thou  realize  what  sickly  natures  must  grow  up  in  such  condi- 
tions, —  natures  out  of  joint,  inclined  to  the  wildest  manias,  crooked, 
wilful  ?  Dost  thou  understand  how  we  are  filling  cemeteries  with 
our  children,  and  why  the  most  monstrous  ideas  find  supporters  ? 
Ah,  at  present  they  are  limiting  the  hours  of  labor  in  factories  even 
for  grown  people,  but  touching  children  at  school  philanthropy  is 
silent.  Oh,  but  that  is  a  field !  that  is  a  service  to  be  rendered ;  that 
is  a  coming  glory  and  sainthood.  Do  not  torture  thy  children  with 
learning,  I  beg  thee  —  and  I  beg  Marynia ;  promise  me  both  of 
you.  I  do  not  speak  just  to  speak,  as  Bukatski  says  sometimes,  but 
I  speak  from  the  heart ;  and  this  is  the  greatest  reform  for  which 
future  ages  are  waiting,  the  greatest  after  the  introduction  of  Christ 
into  history.  Something  wonderful  happened  to  me  in  Perugia  a 
few  days  since,  but  of  that  I  will  tell  thee  sometime,  and  now  I  em- 
brace both  of  you. 

Mavynia  listened  to  this  letter,  looking  at  the  tips  of  her 
shoes,  like  that  Snopchinski  of  whom  the  Professor  wrote. 
But  Pan  Stanislav  laughed,  and  said,  — 

"  Have  you  ever  heard  anything  like  this  ?  It  is  long 
before  our  marriage  ;  but  he  is  lamenting  over  our  children, 
and  takes  the  field  on  their  behalf.  This  is  somewhat  the 
history  of  my  nest." 

After  a  while  he  added,  "  To  tell  the  truth,  the  fault  is 
mine ;  for  I  made  him  various  promises."  And,  inclining 
80  that  he  could  see  Marynia's  eyes,  he  asked,  "  But  what 
do  you  say  to  this  letter  ?  " 

Pan  Stanislav,  inquiring  thus,  had  chanced  on  that  un- 
happy moment  when  a  man  is  not  himself,  and  acts  not  in 
accordance  with  his  own  nature.  He  was  rather  a  harsh 
person  generally,  but  not  brutal,  and  at  times  was  even 
capable  of  delicate  acts,  really  womanlike.  But  now,  in  his 
look  and  in   the  question  directed  to  a  young  lady  so 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  256 

niiinosa-like  as  Marynia,  there  was  something  simply 
brutal.  She  knew  as  well  as  others  that  after  marriage 
come  children  ;  but  this  seemed  to  her  something  indefinite, 
not  to  be  mentioned,  or  if  mentioned,  mentioned  in  allu- 
sions as  delicate  as  lace,  or  in  a  moment  of  emotion,  with 
beating  heart,  with  loving  lips  at  the  ear,  with  solemnity, 
—  as  touching  what  is  most  sacred  in  a  mutual  future. 
Hence  Pan  Stanislav's  careless  tone  outraged  and  pained 
her.  She  thought,  "  Why  does  he  not  understand  this  ?  *' 
and  she  in  turn  acted  not  in  accordance  with  her  nature ; 
for,  as  happens  frequently  with  timid  persons  in  moments 
of  bitterness  and  confusion,  they  exhibit  greater  anger  than 
they  feel. 

"  You  should  not  treat  me  in  this  way!  "  cried  she,  indig- 
nantly.   "  You  should  not  speak  to  me  in  this  way !  " 

Pan  Stanislav  laughed  again  with  feigned  gayety. 

"Why  are  you  angry  ?  "  inquired  he. 

"  You  do  not  act  with  me  as  is  proper." 

"  I  do  not  understand  the  question." 

"  So  much  the  worse." 

The  smile  vanished  from  his  lips;  his  face  grew  dark, 
and  he  spoke  quickly,  like  a  man  who  has  ceased  to  reckon 
with  his  words. 

"Perhaps  I  am  stupid;  but  I  know  what  is  right  and 
what  is  not.  In  this  way  life  becomes  impossible.  Who- 
ever makes  great  things  out  of  nothing  must  not  blame 
others.     But,  since  my  presence  is  disagreeable,  I  go  !  " 

And,  seizing  his  hat,  he  bowed,  and  went  out.  Marynia 
did  not  try  to  detain  him.  For  a  while  offence  and  anger 
stifled  in  her  all  other  sensations ;  then  there  remained  to 
her  only  an  impression,  as  if  from  the  blow  of  a  club.  Her 
thoughts  scattered  like  a  flock  of  birds.  Above  them 
towered  only  one  dim  idea:  "All  is  over!  he  will  not 
return  !  "  Thus  fell  the  structure  which  had  begun  to  unite 
in  such  beautiful  lines.  Emptiness,  nothingness,  a  tortur- 
ing, because  objectless  life,  and  a  chilled  heart,  —  that  is 
what  remained  to  her.  And  happiness  had  been  so  near ! 
But  that  which  had  taken  place  so  suddenly  was  something 
so  strange  that  she  could  not  explain  immediately.  She 
went  to  the  writing-desk,  and  began  mechanically  to  arrange 
papers  in  it,  with  a  certain  objectless  haste,  as  if  there  could 
be  any  reason  at  that  moment  for  arranging  them.  1  hen 
she  looked  at  Litka's  photograph,  and  sat  down  quickly 
with  her  hands  on  her  eyes  and  temples.    After  a  time  it 


256  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

occurred  to  her  that  Litka's  will  must  be  stronger  than  the 
will  of  them  both,  and  a  ray  of  hope  shone  in  on  her  sud- 
denly. She  began  to  walk  in  the  room,  and  to  think  on 
what  had  passed ;  she  recalled  Pan  Stanislav,  not  only  as 
he  had  been  just  then,  but  earlier,  —  two,  three  days,  a 
week  before.  Her  regret  became  greater  than  her  feeling 
of  offence,  and  it  increased  with  her  affection  for  Pan  Stan- 
islav. After  a  time  she  said  in  her  soul  that  she  was  not 
free  to  forget  herself;  that  it  was  her  duty  to  accept  and 
love  Pan  Stanislav  as  he  was,  and  not  strive  to  fix  him  to 
her  ideas.  "That  is,  he  is  a  living  man,,  not  a  puppet," 
repeated  she,  a  number  of  times.  And  a  growing  feeling  of 
fault  seized  her,  and  after  that  compunction.  A  heart  sub- 
missive by  nature,  and  greatly  capable  of  loving,  struggled 
against  sound  sense,  which  she  possessed  undoubtedly,  and 
which  now  told  her  in  vain  that  reason  was  not  on  Pan 
Stanislav's  side,  and  that,  moreover,  she  had  said  nothing 
which  needed  pardon.  She  said  to  herself,  "  If  he  has  a 
good  heart,  even  to  a  small  extent,  he  will  return  ;  "  but  she 
was  seized  also  with  fear  in  view  of  the  self-love  of  men  in 
general,  and  of  Pan  Stanislav  in  particular,  —  she  was  too 
intelligent  not  to  note  that  he  cared  greatly  to  pass  for  an 
unbending  person.  But  considerations  of  that  kind,  which 
an  unfriendly  heart  would  have  turned  to  his  disadvantage, 
had  made  her  tender  only  on  his  behalf. 

Half  an  hour  later  she  was  convinced  to  the  depth  of  her 
soul  that  the  fault  lay  only  on  her  side  ;  that  "  she  had  tor- 
mented him  so  much  already  "  that  she  ought  to  yield  now, 
■ —  that  is,  to  be  the  first  to  extend  a  hand  in  conciliation. 
That  meant  in  her  mind  to  write  a  few  peace-making  words. 
He  had  suffered  so  much  from  that  affair  of  Kremen  that 
this  was  due  to  him.  And  she  was  ready  even  to  weep 
over  his  fate.  She  hoped,  withal,  that  he,  the  bad,  ugly 
man,  would  estimate  what  it  cost  her  to  write  to  him,  and 
would  come  that  same  evening. 

It  had  seemed  to  her  that  nothing  was  easier  than  to  write 
a  few  cordial  phrases,  which  go  directly  from  one  heart  to 
another.  But  how  difficult !  A  letter  has  no  eyes,  which 
fill  with  tears ;  no  face,  which  smiles  both  sadly  and 
sweetly ;  no  voice,  which  trembles ;  no  hands  to  stretch 
forth.  You  may  read  and  understand  a  letter  as  you  like  ; 
it  is  merely  black  letters  on  paper  as  impassive  as  death. 

Marynia  had  just  torn  the  third  sheet,  when  the  face  of 
Pan  Plavitski,  as   wrinkled  as  a  roast  apple,  and   with 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  257 

mustaches  freshly  dyed,  showed  itself  at  the  door  partly 
open. 

"  Is  Polanyetski  not  here  ?  "  inquired  he. 

"  He  is  not,  papa." 

"  But  will  he  come  this  evening  ?  " 

"I  do  not  know,"  answered  she,  with  a  sigh. 

"If  he  comes,  my  child,  tell  him  that  I  will  return  not 
later  than  an  hour  from  now ;  and  that  I  wish  to  speak 
with  him." 

"  And  I  too  wish  to  speak  with  him,"  thought  Marynia. 

And  when  she  had  torn  the  third  sheet  she  took  the 
fourth  and  was  thinking  whether  to  turn  the  whole  quarrel 
into  a  jest,  or  simply  to  beg  his  pardon.  The  jest  might 
not  please  him;  in  the  pardon  there  was  something 
warmer,  but  how  difficult  it  was  !  If  he  had  not  fled,  it 
would  have  sufficed  to  extend  her  hand  ;  but  he  flew  out  as 
if  shot  from  a  sling,  the  irritable  man,  though  so  much 
loved. 

And,  raising  her  eyes,  she  began  to  work  intently  with  her 
dark  head,  when  on  a  sudden  the  bell  sounded  in  the  entrance. 
Marynia's  heart  was  beating  like  a  hammer ;  and  through 
her  head  flew  these  questions,  like  lightning,  — 

"  Is  it  he  ?     Is  it  not  he  ?  " 

The  door  opened ;  it  was  he. 

He  came  in  with  the  look  of  a  wolf,  his  head  down,  his 
face  gloomy.  Evidently  he  was  very  uncertain  how  she 
would  receive  him  ;  but  she  sprang  up,  her  heart  beating 
like  a  bird's  heart;  her  eyes  radiant,  happy,  touched 
greatly  by  his  return ;  and,  running  to  him,  she  laid  her 
hands  on  his  shoulders. 

"  But  how  good  !  how  nice  !  And  do  you  know,  I  wanted 
to  write  to  you." 

Pan  Stanislav,  pressing  her  hands  to  his  lips,  was  silent 
for  some  time;  at  last  he  said, — 

"  You  ought  to  give  the  order  to  throw  me  downstairs." 
In  a  rapture  of  thankfulness  he  drew  her  up  to  him,  kissed 
her  lips,  eyes,  temples,  and  hair,  which  became  unbound 
in  the  pressure.  In  such  moments  it  seemed  to  him  always 
that  he  would  find  everything  that  goes  to  make  great  and 
perfect  love.     At  last  he  released  her  and  continued, — 

"You  are  too  good.  Though  that  is  better,  it  subdues 
me.  I  came  to  beg  your  forgiveness,  nothing  more.  I  re- 
gained mv  senses  at  once.  I  reproached  myself  for  my  last 
words,  and  I  cannot  tell  you  how  sorry  I  was.     I  walked- 

17 


258  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

along  the  street,  thinking  to  see  you  in  the  window,  perhaps, 
and  note  from  your  face  whether  I  might  come  in.  After 
that  I  could  not  restrain  myself,  and  i-eturned." 

"I  beg  pardon;  it  was  my  fault.  You  see  the  torn 
paper;  I  wrote  and  wrote." 

He  devoured  with  his  eyes  her  hair,  which  she  had  arranged 
hastily.  With  blushing  face,  from  which  joy  was  beaming, 
with  eyes  laughing  from  happiness,  she  seemed  to  him  more 
beautiful  than  ever,  and  desired  as  never  before. 

Marynia  noticed,  too,  that  he  was  looking  at  her  hair ; 
and  confusion  struggled  with  pure  womanly  coquetry.  She 
had  fastened  it  awkwardly  by  design,  so  that  the  tresses 
were  falling  more  and  more  on  her  shoulders;  while  she 
said,  — 

"  Do  not  look,  or  I  '11  go  to  my  room." 

"But  that  is  my  wealth,"  said  Pan  Stanislav;  "and  in 
my  life  I  have  never  seen  anything  like  it." 

He  stretched  his  hands  to  her  again,  but  she  evaded. 

"Not  permitt«;d, not  permitted,"  said  she;  "as  it  is,  lam 
ashamed.     I  ought  to  have  left  you." 

Her  hair,  however,  came  gradually  to  order ;  then  both 
sat  down  and  conversed  quietly,  though  looking  into  each 
other's  eyes. 

"  And  you  wished  really  to  write  ?  "  asked  Pan  Stanislav. 

"  You  see  the  torn  paper." 

"  I  say  that,  in  truth,  you  are  too  good." 

She  raised  her  eyes,  and,  looking  at  the  shelf  above  the 
bureau,  said,  — 

"  Because  the  fault  was  mine.     Yes ;  only  mine." 

And,  judging  that  she  could  not  be  too  magnanimous,  she 
added  after  a  moment,  blushing  to  her  ears  and  dropping 
her  eyes,  — 

"  For,  after  all,  the  professor  is  correct  in  what  he  writes 
about  learning." 

Pan  Stanislav  wanted  to  kneel  down  and  kiss  her  feet 
Her  charm  and  goodness  not  only  disarmed  him,  but 
conquered  hira  thoroughly. 

"That  I  am  annihilated  is  true,"  cried  he,  as  if  finishing 
some  Tinexpressed  thought  with  words.  "  You  conquer  me 
utterly." 

She  began  to  shake  her  head  joyously.  "Ei!  I  don't 
know  ;  I  am  such  a  coward." 

"  You  a  coward  ?  I  will  tell  you  an  anecdote :  In 
Belgium  I  knew  two  young  ladies  named  Wauters,  who  had 


CHILDREN  OF  THE   SOIL.  259 

a  pet  cat,  a  mild  creature,  mild  enough,  it  would  seem,  to  be 
put  to  a  wound.  Afterward  one  of  the  young  ladies  re- 
ceived a  tame  hare  as  a  gift.  What  do  you  think  ?  The 
cat  was  so  afraid  that  from  terror  he  jumped  on  to  every 
shelf  and  stove.  One  day  the  ladies  went  to  walk. ;  all  at 
once  they  remembered  that  the  cat  was  alone  with  the  hare. 
*  But  will  not  Matou  hurt  the  hare  ?  '  '  Matou  ?  Matou  is 
so  terrified  that  he  is  ready  to  go  out  of  his  skin  ! '  And 
they  walked  on  quietly.  They  came  home  an  hour  later, 
Vnd  guess  what  had  happened  ?  They  found  only  the  ears 
of  the  hare.  That  is  precisely  the  relation  of  young  ladies 
to  us.  They  are  afraid  seemingly  ;  but  afterward  nothing 
is  left  of  us  but  ears." 

And  Pan  Stanislav  began  to  laugh,  and  Marynia  with 
him  ;  after  a  while  he  added,  — 

"  I  know  that  of  me  only  ears  will  be  left." 

He  did  not  tell  the  truth,  however ;  for  he  felt  that  it 
would  be  otherwise.  Marynia  too,  after  thinking  a  while, 
said,  — 

"  No ;  I  have  not  such  a  character." 

"  That  is  better  too ;  for  I  will  tell  you  sincerely  what 
conclusions  I  have  drawn  from  my  life  observations :  the 
greater  egotism  always  conquers  the  less." 

"Or  the  greater  love  yields  to  the  less,"  answered 
Marynia. 

"  That  comes  out  the  same.  As  to  me,  I  confess  that  I 
should  like  to  hold  some  Herod,  see,  this  way,  in  my  hand  " 
(here  Pan  Stanislav  opened  his  fingers  and  then  closed 
them  into  a  fist)  ;  "  but  with  such  a  dove  as  you,  it  is  quite 
different.  With  you  I  think  we  shall  have  to  fight  to 
restrain  you  from  too  much  self-abnegation,  too  much  per- 
sonal sacrifice.  Such  is  your  nature,  and  I  know  whom  I 
take.  For  that  matter  all  say  so,  and  even  Mashko,  who  is 
no  Solomon,  said :  '  She  may  be  unhappy  with  thee  ;  thou 
with  her,  never.'  And  he  is  right.  But  I  am  curious  to 
know  how  Mashko  will  be  for  his  wife.  He  has  a  firm 
hand." 

"But  is  he  loved  much?" 

"Xot  so  much  as  awhile  ago,  when  a  certain  young  lady 
coquetted  with  him." 

"  Yes;  for  he  was  n't  so  wicked  as  a  certain  *  Pan  Stas.' " 

"That  will  be  a  wonderful  marriage.  She  is  not  ill- 
looking,  though  she  is  pale,  and  lias  red  eyes.  But  Mashko 
marries  for  property.      He  admits  that  she  doesn't  love 


260  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

him ;  and  when  that  adventure  with  Gantovski  took  place 
(he  is  brave,  too),  he  was  certain  that  those  ladies  would 
choose  the  opportunity  to  break  with  him.  Meanwhile  it 
turned  out  just  the  opposite;  and  imagine,  Mashko  is 
now  alarmed  again,  because  everything  moves  as  if  on  oil. 
It  seems  to  him  suspicious.  There  are  certain  strange 
things  there;  there  exists  also,  as  it  seems,  a  Pan  Kras- 
lavski  —  God  knows  what  there  is  not.  The  whole  affair  is 
stupid.  There  will  be  no  happiness  in  it,  —  at  least,  not 
such  as  I  picture  to  myself." 

"And  what  do  you  picture  to  yourself?" 

"Happiness  in  this, — to  marry  a  reliable  woman,  like 
you,  and  see  the  future  clearly." 

"But  I  think  it  is  in  this,  — to  be  loved;  but  that  is  not 
enough  yet." 

"What  more?" 

"To  be  worthy  of  that  love,  and  to  —  " 

Here  Marynia  was  unable  for  a  time  to  find  words,  but 
at  last  she  said,  — 

"And  to  believe  in  a  husband,  and  work  with  him." 


CHILDUEN  OF  THE  SOIL.  £61 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

Pan  Stanislav  was  not  mistaken.  Everything  went  so 
favorably  for  Masbko,  Pani  and  Panna  Kraslavski  acted 
so  admirably,  that  he  was  more  and  more  alarmed.  At 
moments  he  laughed  at  this ;  and  since  he  had  had  no  secret 
from  Pan  Stanislav  for  some  time,  he  said  one  day,  with 
complete  cynicism,  — 

"  My  dear,  those  are  simply  angels ;  but  my  hair  stands 
on  end,  for  something  is  hidden  in  this," 

"Better  thank  the  Lord  God." 

"They  are  too  ideal;  they  are  faultless;  they  are  even 
without  vanity.  Yesterday,  for  example,  I  gave  them  to 
understand  that  I  am  an  advocate  only  because  to  my 
thinking  sons  of  the  best  families  should  undertake  some- 
thing in  these  times,  be  something.  Guess  what  they 
answered?  That  that  is  as  good  a  position  as  any  other; 
that  every  employment  is  woi-thy  in  their  eyes,  provided 
it  is  work;  and  that  only  poor  and  empty  natures  could 
be  ashamed  of  work.  They  shot  out  so  many  packages  of 
commonplace  that  I  wanted  to  answer  with  a  sentence 
from  copy-books,  such  as  '  Honor  is  a  steep  cliff,'  or  some- 
thing of  that  sort.  Polanyetski,  I  tell  thee  there  is 
something  concealed  there.  I  thought  that  it  was  papa, 
but  it  is  not  papa.  I  have  news  of  him:  he  lives  in 
Bordeaux;  he  calls  himself  De  Langlais;  and  he  has  his 
own  domestic  hearth,  not  so  much  legalh',  as  numerously, 
surrounded,  which  he  maintains  with  a  pension  received 
from  Pani  Kraslavski." 

"What  harm  is  that  to  thee?" 

"None  whatever." 

"  If  it  is  that  way,  they  are  unhappy  women,  —  that  is 
all." 

"  True ;  but  if  their  income  answers  to  the  misfortune? 
Remember  that  I  have  burdens.  Besides,  seest  thou,  if 
they  are  such  women  as  they  pretend,  and  if,  also,  they 
are  rich,  I  am  ready  to  fall  in  love  really,  and  that  would 
be  stupid;  if  it  appears  that  they  have  nothing,  or  little, 
I  am  ready,  also,  to  fall  in  love,  and  that  would  be  still 
more  stupid.     She  has  charms  for  me." 


262  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

"No;  that  would  be  the  one  wise  thing  in  every  case 
But  think  of  thyself,    Mashko,   a   little   of  me   and  the 
Plavitskis.     It  is  known  to  thee  that  I  have  not  the  habit 
of  being  mild  in  those  matters,  and  the  dates  of  payment 
are  approaching." 

"  r  11  iire  up  the  boiler  once  more  with  credit.  For  that 
matter,  thou  and  they  have  a  mortgage  on  Kremen.  In  a 
couple  of  days  there  will  be  a  betrothal  party  at  Pani 
Kraslavski's,  after  which  I  hope  to  learn  something 
re.'iable." 

Here  Mashko  began  a  monologue,  — 

"But  that  a  positive  man,  such  as  I  am,  should  go  into 
a  forest  in  this  way,  passes  belief.  On  the  other  hand, 
there  is  not  a  man,  even  among  those  who  know  best  how 
every  one  stands,  who  would  let  himself  doubt  of  Pani 
Kraslavski's  property.     And  they  are  so  noble ! " 

"Thy  fears  are  probably  baseless,"  interrupted  Pan 
Stanislav,  with  certain  impatience.  "But  thou,  my  dear 
fellow,  art  not  positive  in  any  sense,  for  thou  hast  been 
always  pretending,  and  art  pretending  still,  instead  of 
looking  to  that  which  gives  thee  bread." 

A  few  days  later  the  betrothal  party  took  place  in  fact. 
Marynia  was  there;  for  Pani  Kraslavski,  who  liked  Pla- 
vitski,  whose  relatives  were  known  to  her,  did  not  avoid 
association  with  him  as  she  did  with  the  Bigiels.  Mashko 
brought  such  of  his  acquaintances  as  had  well-known 
names.  They  had  monocles  on  their  eyes,  and  their  hair 
parted  in  the  middle;  for  the  greater  part  very  young, 
and  mainly  not  very  quick-witted.  Among  them  were  the 
five  brothers  Vyj,  who  were  called  Mizio,  Kizio,  Bizio, 
Brelochek,  and  Tatus.  They  were  nicknamed  the  five 
sleeping  brothers,  since  they  felt  the  impulses  of  life  in 
their  legs  exclusively,  and  were  active  only  in  the  carnival, 
but  became  perfectly  torpid,  at  least  in  a  mental  sense, 
during  Lent.  Bukatski  loved  them,  and  amused  himself 
with  them.  Baron  Kot  was  there,  who,  because  he  had 
heard  something  from  some  one  of  a  certain  ancient  Kot 
of  Dembna,  added  always,  when  he  was  presented,  "of 
Dembna,"  and  who  always  answered  everything  that  was 
said  to  him  with:  "  Quelle  drole  iThistoire!"  Mashko  was 
on  the  footing  of  thou  with  all  these,  though  he  treated 
them  with  a  certain  species  of  disregard,  as  well  as 
Kopovski,  — a  young  man  with  a  splendid  ideal  head,  and 
also  splendid  eyes  without  thought.     Pan  Stanislav  and 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  263 

Kresovski  represented  the  category  of  Mashko's  more  clever 
friends.  Pani  Kraslavski  had  invited  a  number  of  ladies 
with  daughters,  among  whom  the  five  brothers  circled  care- 
lessly and  coolly,  and  whose  maiden  hearts  fluttered  at  the 
approach  of  Kopovski,  caring  less  for  his  mental  resem- 
blance to  Hamlet,  resting  on  this, — that  if  not  he,  his 
brain  might  be  put  into  "a  nutshell."  A  number  of  digni- 
fied bald  heads  completed  the  company. 

Panna  Kraslavski  was  dressed  in  Avhite;  in  spite  of  her 
red  eyes,  she  looked  alluring.  There  was  in  her,  indeed, 
a  certain  womanly  charm,  resting  on  a  wonderful,  almost 
dreamy  repose.  She  recalled  somewhat  the  figures  of 
Perugini.  At  times  she  grew  bright,  like  an  alabaster 
lamp,  in  which  a  flame  flashes  up  on  a  sudden;  after  a 
while  she  paled  again,  but  paled  not  without  charm. 
Dressed  in  a  thin  white  robe,  she  seemed  more  shapely 
than  usual.  Pan  Stanislav,  looking  at  her,  thought  that 
she  might  have  a  heart  which  was  dry  enough,  and  a  dry 
enough  head,  but  she  could  be  a  genteel  wife,  especially 
for  Mashko,  who  valued  social  gentility  above  everything 
else.  Their  manner  toward  each  other  seemed  like  a  cool 
and  pale  day,  in  which  the  sun  does  not  burn,  but  in  which 
also  a  storm  is  not  threatening.  They  were  sitting  at  the 
end  of  the  drawing-room,  not  too  near,  but  also  not  too  far, 
from  the  rest  of  the  company;  they  occupied  themselves 
with  each  other  no  more  and  no  less  than  was  proper.  In 
his  conversation  with  her  as  much  feeling  was  evident  as 
was  required,  but,  above  all,  the  wish  to  appear  a  "correct" 
betrothed;  she  paid  him  on  her  part  in  the  same  coin. 
They  smiled  at  each  other  in  a  friendly  way.  He,  as  the 
future  leader  and  head  of  the  house,  spoke  more  than  she; 
sometimes  they  looked  into  each  other's  eyes,  — in  a  word, 
they  formed  the  most  correct  and  exemplary  couple  of 
betrothed  people  that  could  be  imagined,  in  the  society 
sense  of  the  term.  "I  should  not  have  held  out,"  said  Pan 
Stanislav  to  himself.  Suddenly  he  remembered  that  while 
she  was  sitting  there  in  conventional  repose,  white,  smil- 
ing, the  poor  little  doctor,  who  could  not  "tear  his  soul 
from  her,"  was  in  equal  repose  somewhere  between  the 
tropics  turning  to  dust,  under  the  ground,  forgotten,  as  if 
he  had  never  existed;  and  anger  bore  him  away.  Not  only 
did  he  feel  contempt  for  the  heart  of  Mashko's  betrothed, 
but  that  repose  of  hers  seemed  now  bad  taste  to  him,  —a 
species  of  spiritual  deadness,  which  once  had  been  fashion- 


264  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

able,  and  which,  since  they  saw  i-n  it  something  demonic, 
the  poets  had  struck  with  their  thunderbolts,  and  which, 
in  time,  had  grown  vulgar,  and  dropped  to  be  moral 
nonentity  and  folly.  "First  of  all,  she  is  a  goose,  and, 
moreover,  a  goose  with  no  heart,"  thought  Pan  Stanislav. 
At  that  moment  Mashko's  alarm  at  the  noble  conduct  of 
those  ladies  grew  clear  to  him  to  such  a  degree  that  Mashko 
rose  in  his  esteem  as  a  man  of  acuteness. 

Then  he  fell  to  comparing  his  own  betrothed  with  Panna 
Kraslavski,  and  said  to  himself  with  great  satisfaction, 
"]\[arynia  is  a  different  species  altogether."  He  felt  that 
he  was  resting  mentally  while  looking  at  her.  In  so  much 
as  the  other  seemed,  as  it  were,  an  artificial  plant,  reared, 
not  in  broad  fresh  currents  of  air,  but  under  glass,  in  that 
much  did  there  issue  from  this  one  life  and  warmth,  and 
still  the  comparison  came  out  to  the  advantage  of  JNIarynia, 
even  in  respect  to  society.  Pan  Stanislav  did  not  overlook 
altogether  "distinction,"  so-called,  understanding  that,  if 
not  always,  it  frequently  answers  to  a  certain  mental 
finish,  especially  in  women.  Looking  now  at  one,  now  at 
the  other,  he  came  to  the  conviction  that  that  finish 
which  Panna  Kraslavski  had  was  something  acquired  and 
enslaving,  with  Marynia  it  was  innate.  In  the  one  it  was 
a  garment  thrown  on  outside;  in  the  other,  the  soul, — a 
kind  of  natural  trait  in  a  species  ennobled  through  long 
ages  of  culture.  Taking  from  Bukatski's  views  as  many 
as  he  needed,  —  that  is,  as  many  as  were  to  the  point,  — 
Pan  Stanislav  remembered  that  he  had  said  frequently  that 
women,  without  reference  to  their  origin,  are  divided  into 
patricians,  who  have  culture,  principles,  and  spiritual 
needs,  which  have  entered  the  blood,  and  parvenues,  who 
dress  in  them,  as  in  mantillas,  to  go  visiting.  At  present, 
while  looking  at  the  noble  profile  of  Marynia,  Pan  Stan- 
islav thought,  with  the  vanity  of  a  little  townsman  who  is 
marrying  a  princess,  that  he  was  taking, a  patrician  in 
the  high  sense  of  the  word;  and,  besides,  a  very  beautiful 
patrician. 

Frequently  women  need  only  some  field,  and  a  little 
luck,  to  bloom  forth.  Marynia,  who  seemed  almost  ugly 
to  Pan  Stanislav  when  he  was  returning  from  the  burial 
of  Litka,  astonished  him  now,  at  times,  with  her  beauty. 
Near  her  Panna  Kraslavski  seemed  like  a  faded  robe  near 
a  new  one;  and  if  the  fortune  of  Panna  Plavitski  had  been 
on  a  level  with  her  looks,  she  would  have  passed,  beyond 


CHILDREN   OF  THE   SOIL.  265 

doubt,  for  a  beauty.  As  it  was,  the  five  brothers,  putting 
their  glasses  on  their  equine  noses,  looked  at  her  with  a 
certain  admiration;  and  Baron  Kot,  of  Deiubna,  declared 
confidentially  that  her  betrothal  was  real  luck,  lor  had  it 
not  taken  place,  who  knows  but  he  might  have  rushed  in. 

Pan  Stanislav  could  note  also  that  evening  one  trait  of 
his  own  character  which  he  had  not  suspected,  — jealousy. 
Since  he  was  convinced  that  Marynia  was  a  perfectly 
reliable  woman,  who  might  be  trusted  blindly ,  that  jealousy 
was  simply  illogical.  In  his  time  he  had  been  jealous  of 
Mashko,  and  that  could  be. understood;  but  now  he  could 
not  explain  why  Kopovski,  for  example,  with  his  head  of 
an  archangel  and  his  brains  of  a  bird,  could  annoy  him, 
just  because  he  sat  next  to  Marynia,  and  doubtless  was 
asking  her  more  or  less  pertinent  questions,  to  which  she 
was  answering  more  or  less  agreeably.  At  first  he  re- 
proached himself.  "  Still,  it  would  be  difficult  to  ask  her 
not  to  speak  to  him!"  Afterward  he  found  that  Marynia 
turned  to  Kopovski  too  frequently,  and  answered  too  agree- 
ably. At  supper,  while  sitting  next  her,  he  was  silent  and 
irritated;  and  when  she  asked  the  reason,  he  answered 
most  inappropriately,  — 

"I  have  no  wish  to  spoil  the  impression  which  Pan 
Kopovski  produced  on  you." 

But  she  was  pleased  that  he  was  jealous;  contracting  the 
corners  of  her  mouth  to  suppress  laughter,  and  looking  at 
him  sedately,  she  answered,  — 

"  Do  you  find,  too,  that  there  is  something  uncommon  in 
Pan  Kopovski?" 

"Of  course,  pf  course!  When  he  walks  the  streets 
even,  it  seems  that  he  is  carrying  his  head  into  fresh  air, 
lest  the  moths  might  devour  it." 

The  corners  of  Marynia's  mouth  bore  the  test,  but  her 
eyes  laughed  evidently ;  at  last,  unable  to  endure,  she  said, 
in  a  low  voice,  — 

"  Outrageously  jealous !  " 

"I?    Not  the  least!" 

"Well,  I  will  give  you  an  extract  from  our  conversation. 
You  know  that  yesterday  there  was  a  case  of  catalepsy 
during  the  concert;  to-day  they  were  talking  of  that  near 
us;  then,  among  other  things,  I  asked  Pan  Kopovski  if  he 
had  seen  the  cataleptic  person.  Do  you  know  what  he 
answered?  '  Each  of  us  may  have  different  convictions.' 
Well,  now,  isn't  he  uncommon?" 


266  CHILDREN   OF  THE   SOIL. 

Pan  Stanislav  was  pacified,  and  began  to  laugh. 

"  But  I  tell  you  that  he  simply  does  n't  understand  what 
is  said  to  him,  and  answers  anything. "- 

They  passed  the  rest  of  the  evening  with  each  other 
in  good  agreement.  At  the  time  of  parting,  when  the 
Plavitskis,  having  a  carriage  with  seats  for  only  two 
persons,  were  unable  to  take  Pan  Stanislav,  Marynia 
turned  to  him  and  inquired,  — 

"Will  the  cross,  whimsical  man  come  to-morrow  to 
dine  with  us  ?  " 

"  He  will,  for  he  loves,"  answered  Pan  Stanislav,  cover- 
ing her  feet  with  the  robe. 

She  whispered  into  his  ear,  as  it  were  great  news,  "  And 
I  too." 

And  although  he  at  the  moment  of  speaking  was  per- 
fectly sincere,  she  spoke  more  truth.  Mashko  conducted 
Pan  Stanislav  home.  On  the  road  they  talked  of  the 
reception.  Mashko  said  that  before  the  arrival  of  guests 
he  had  tried  to  speak  to  Pani  Kraslavski  of  business,  but 
had  not  succeeded. 

"  There  was  a  moment,"  said  he,  "  when  I  thought  to 
put  the  question  plainly,  dressing  it  of  course  in  the  most 
delicate  form.  But  I  was  afraid.  Finally,  why  have  I 
doubts  of  the  dower  of  my  betrothed  ?  Only  because  those 
ladies  treat  me  with  more  consideration  than  I  expected. 
As  a  humor,  that  is  very  good ;  but  I  fear  to  push  matters 
too  far,  for  suppose  that  my  fears  turn  out  vain,  suppose 
they  have  money  really,  and  are  incensed  because  my  curi- 
osity is  too  selfish.  It  is  necessary  to  count  with  this  also, 
for  I  may  be  wrecked  at  the  harbor." 

"  Well,  then,"  answered  Pan  Stanislav,  "  admit  this,  and 
for  that  matter  it  is  likely  that  they  have ;  but  if  it 
should  turn  out  that  they  have  not,  what  then  ?  Hast  a 
plan  ready  ?  Wilt  thou  break  with  Panna  Kraslavski,  or 
wilt  thou  marry  her  ?  " 

"  I  will  not  break  with  her  in  any  case,  for  I  should  not 
gain  by  it.  If  my  marriage  does  not  take  place,  I  shall  be 
a  bankrupt.  But  if  it  does,  I  will  state  ray  financial  posi- 
tion precisely,  and  suppose  that  Panna  Kraslavski  will 
break  with  me." 

"  But  if  she  does  not,  and  has  no  money  ?  " 

"  I  shall  love  her,  and  come  to  terms  with  my  creditors. 
I  shall  cease  to  *  pretend,'  as  thy  phrase  is,  and  try  to  win 
bread  for  us  both;  I  am  not  a  bad  advocate,  as  thou 
knowest." 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  267 

"  That  is  fairly  good,"  answered  Pan  Stanislav,  "  but  that 
does  not  pacify  me  touching  the  Plavitskis  and  myself." 

*•  Thou  and  they  are  in  a  better  position  than  others, 
for  ye  have  a  lien  on  Kremen.  In  a  given  ease  thou  wilt 
take  everything  in  thy  firm  grasp,  and  squeeze  out  some- 
thing. It  is  worse  for  those  who  have  trusted  my  word ; 
and  I  tell  thee  to  thy  eyes  that  I  am  concerned  more  for 
them.  I  had,  and  I  have  great  credit  even  now.  That  is 
my  tender  point.  But  if  they  give  me  time,  I  will  come 
out  so}nehow.  If  I  had  a  little  happiness  at  home,  and 
a  motive  there  for  labor  —  " 

They  came  now  to  Fan  Stanislav's  house,  so  Mashko  did 
not  finish  his  thought.  At  the  moment  of  parting,  however, 
he  said  suddenly,  — 

**  Listen  to  me.  In  thy  eyes  I  am  somewhat  crooked ; 
I  am  much  less  so  than  seems  to  thee.  I  have  pretended,  as 
thou  sayst,  it  is  true  !  I  had  to  wriggle  out,  like  an  eel,  and 
in  those  wrigglings  I  slipped  sometimes  from  the  beaten 
road.  But  I  am  tired,  and  tell  thee  plainly  that  I  wish 
a  little  happiness,  for  I  have  not  had  it.  Therefore  I 
wanted  to  marry  thy  betrothed,  thougli  she  is  without 
property.  As  to  Panna  Kraslavski,  dost  thou  know  that 
there  are  moments  when  I  should  prefer  that  she  had 
nothing,  but,  to  make  up,  that  she  would  not  drop  me  when 
she  knows  that  I  too  have  nothing.  I  say  this  sincerely 
—  and  now  good-night." 

"  Well,"  said  Pan  Stanislav  to  himself,  "  this  is  something 
new  in  Mashko."  And  he  entered  the  gate.  Standing  at 
the  door,  he  was  astonished  to  hear  the  piano  in  his  apart- 
ments. The  servant  said  that  Bigiel  had  been  waiting  two 
hours  for  him. 

Pan  Stanislav  was  alarmed,  but  thought  that  if  some- 
thing unfavorable  had  caused  his  presence,  he  would  not 
play  on  the  piano.  In  fact,  it  turned  out  that  Bigiel  was  m 
haste  merely  to  get  Pan  Stanislav's  signature  for  an  affair 
which  had  to  be  finished  early  next  morning.  ^^ 

"  Thou  mightest  have  left  the  paper,  and  gone  to  bed, 
said  Pan  Stanislav. 

«I  slept  awhile  on  thy  sofa,  then  sat  at  the  piano. 
Once  I  plaved  on  the  piano  as  well  as  on  the  violin,  but 
now  my  fingers  are  clumsy.  Thy  Marynia  plays  probably ; 
such  music  in  the  house  is  a  nice  thing." 

Pan  Stanislav  laughed  with  a  sincere,  well-wishing 
laugh. 


268  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

'<  My  Mai^nia  ?  'My  Marynia  possesses  the  evangelical 
talent :  her  left  hand  does  not  know  what  her  right  hand 
is  doinc^.  Poor  dear  woman!  She  has  no  pretensions;  and 
she  plays  only  when  I  beg  her  to  do  so." 

"  Thou  art  as  it  were  laughing  at  her,"  said  Bigiel ;  "  but 
only  those  who  are  in  love  laugh  in  that  way." 

"  Because  I  am  in  love  most  completely.  At  least  it 
seems  so  now  to  me ;  and  in  general  I  must  say  that  it 
seems  so  to  me  oftener  and  oftener.  Wilt  thou  have 
tea  ?  " 

"  Yes.    Thou  hast  come  from  Pani  Kraslavski's  ?  " 

"  I  have." 

'•'  How  is  Mashko  ?     Will  he  struggle  to  shore  ?  " 

*'I  parted  with  him  a  moment  ago.  He  came  with  me 
to  the  gate.  ■  He  says  things  at  times  that  I  should  not  ex- 
pect from  hira." 

Pan  Stanislav,  glad  to  have  some  one  to  talk  with,  and 
feeling  the  need  of  intimate  converse,  began  to  tell  what  he 
had  heard  from  Mashko ;  and  how  much  he  was  astonished 
at  finding  a  man  of  romantic  nature  under  the  skin  of  a 
person  of   his  kind. 

"  Mashko  is  not  a  bad  man,"  said  Bigiel.  "  He  is  only  on 
the  road  to  various  evasions ;  and  the  cause  of  that  is  his 
vanity  and  respect  for  appearances.  But,  on  the  other 
hand,  that  respect  for  appearances  saves  him  from  final 
fall.  As  to  the  man  of  romance,  which  thou  hast  found  in 
him  —  " 

Here  Bigiel  cut  off  the  end  of  a  cigar,  lighted  it  with 
great  deliberation,  wrinkling  his  brows  at  the  same  time, 
and,  sitting  down  comfortably,  continued,  — 

"Bukatski  would  have  given  on  that  subject  ten  ironical 
paradoxes  about  our  society.  Now  something  stuck  in  my 
head  that  he  told  me,  when  he  attacked  us  because  always 
we  love  some  one  or  something.  It  seems  to  him  that  this 
is  foolish  and  purposeless  ;  but  I  see  in  this  a  great  trait.  It 
is  necessary  to  become  something  in  the  world ;  and  what 
have  we  ?  Money  we  have  not;  intellect,  so-so;  the  gift  of 
making  our  way  in  a  position,  not  greatly ;  management, 
little.  We  have  in  truth  this  yet,  —  that  almost  involunta- 
rily, through  some  general  disposition,  we  love  something  or 
somebody  ;  and  if  we  do  not  love,  we  feel  the  need  of  love. 
Thou  knowest  that  T  am  a  man  of  deliberation  and  a 
merchant,  hence  T  speak  soberly.  I  call  attention  to  tliis 
because  of  Bukatski.      Mashko,  for  instance,  in  some  other 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  269 

country,  would  be  a  rogue  from  under  a  dark  star ;  and  1 
know  many  such.  But  here  even  beneath  the  trickster  thou 
canst  sci-atch  to  the  man ;  and  that  is  simple,  for,  in  the  last 
instance,  while  a  man  has  some  spark  in  his  breast  yet,  he 
is  not  a  beast  utterly ;  and  with  us  he  has  the  spark, 
precisely  for  this  reason,  that  he  loves  something." 

"  Thou  bringest  Vaskovski  to  my  mind.  What  thou  art 
saying  is  not  far  from  his  views  concerning  the  mission 
of  the  youngest  of  the  Aryans.". 

"  What  is  Vaskovski  to  me  ?  I  say  what  I  think.  I 
know  one  thing  :  take  that  from  us,  and  we  should  fly  apart, 
like  a  barrel  without  hoops." 

"  Well,  listen  to  what  I  will  tell  thee.  This  is  a  thing 
decided  in  my  mind  rather  long^  since.  To  love,  or  not  to 
love  some  one,  is  a  personal  question ;  but  I  understand 
that  it  is  needful  to  love  something  in  life.  I  too  have 
meditated  over  this.  After  the  death  of  that  child,  I  felt 
that  the  devil  had  taken  certain  sides  of  me  ;  sometimes  I 
feel  that  yet.  ^ot  to-day  ;  but  there  are  times  —  how  can 
T  tell  thee  ?  —  times  of  ebb,  exhaustion,  doubts.  And  if,  in 
spite  of  this,  I  marry,  it  is  because  I  understand  that  it  is 
necessary  to  have  a  living  and  strong  foundation  under  a 
more  general  love." 

"  For  that,  and  not  for  that,"  answered  Bigiel  the  inexor- 
able in  judgment,  "  for  thou  are  marrying  not  at  all  from 
purely  mental  reasons.  Thou  art  taking  a  comely  and 
honest  young  woman,  to  whom  thou  art  attracted ;  and  do 
not  persuade  thyself  that  it  is  otherwise,  or  thou  wilt  begin 
to  pretend.  My  dear  friend,  every  man  has  these  doubts 
before  marrying.  I,  as  thou  seest,  am  no  philosopher ;  but 
ten  times  a  day  I  asked  myself  before  marriage,  if  I  loved 
my  future  wife^well  enough,  if  I  loved  her  as  was  neces- 
sary, had  I  not  too  little  soul  in  the  matter,  and  too  many 
doubts?  God  knows  what!  Afterward  I  married  a  good 
woman  and  it  was  well  for  us.  It  will  be  well  for  you  too, 
if  ye  take  things  simply ;  but  that  endless  searching  in  the 
mind  and  looking  for  certain  secrets  of  the  heart  is  folly, 
God  knows."  ^  .         r     i   • 

«  Maybe  it  is  folly.  I  too  have  no  great  love  for  lying 
on  my  back  and  analyzing  from  morn  in  till  night  j  but 
I  cannot  help  seeing  facts." 

"  What  facts  "^ " 

«  Such  facts,  for  example,  as  this,  that  my  feeling  is  not 
what  it  was  at  first.     I  think  that  it  will  be ;  I  acknowledge 


270  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

that  it  is  goiug  to  that.  I  marry  iu  spite  of  these  obser- 
vations, as  if  they  did  not  exist;  but  I  make  them." 

**  Thou  art  free  to  do  so." 

"  And  see  what  I  think  besides :  still  it  is  necessary  that 
the  windows  of  a  house  should  look  out  on  the  sun; 
otherwise  it  will  be  cold  in  the  dwelling." 

"  Thou  hast  said  well,"  answered  Bigiel. 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  271 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

Meanwhile  winter  began  to  break  ;  the  end  of  Lent  was 
approaching,  and  with  it  the  time  of  marriage  for  Pan 
Stanislav,  as  well  as  Mashko.  Bukatski,  invited  as  a 
groomsman  to  the  former,  wrote  to  him  among  other 
things  as  follows,  — 

"  To  thrust  forth  the  all-creative  energy  from  its  universal  condition, 
—  that  is,  from  a  condition  of  perfect  repose,  —  and  force  it  by  means 
of  marriages  concluded  on  earth  to  incarnate  itself  in  more  or  less 
squalling  particulars  which  require  cradles  and  which  amuse  them- 
selves by  holding  the  great  toe  in  the  mouth,  is  a  crime.  Still  I  will 
come,  because  stoves  are  better  with  you  than  in  this  place." 

In  fact,  he  came  a  week  before  the  holidays,  and  brought 
as  a  gift  to  Pan  Stanislav  a  sheet  of  parchment  ornamented 
splendidly  with  something  in  the  style  of  a  grave  hour-glass, 
on  which  was  the  inscription,  "  Stanislav  Polanyetski,  after 
a  long  and  grievous  bachelorhood." 

Pan  Stanislav,  whom  the  parchment  pleased,  took  it  next 
day  about  noon  to  Marynia.  He  forgot,  however,  that  it 
was  Sunday,  and  felt,  as  it  were,  disappointed,  at  finding 
Marynia  with  her  hat  on. 

"  Are  you  going  out  ?  "  inquired  he. 

"Yes.     To  church.     To-day  is  Sunday." 

"Ah,  Sunday  !  True.  But  I  thought  that  we  should  sit 
here  together.     It  would  be  so  agreeable." 

She  raised  her  calm  blue  eyes  to  him,  and  said  with 
simplicity,  "  But  the  service  of  God  ?  " 

Pan  Stanislav  received  these  words  at  once  as  he  wonld 
have  received  any  other,  not  foreseeing  that,  in  the  spiritual 
process  which  he  was  to  pass  through  later  on,  they  would 
play  a  certain  role  by  reason  of  their  directness,  and  said  as 
if  repeating  mechanically,  — 

"  You  say  the  service  of  God.  Very  well !  I  have  time ; 
let  us  go  together." 

Marynia  received  this  offer  with  great  satisfaction. 

"I  am  the  happier,"  said  she,  on  the  way,  "the  more  I 
love  God." 

"That,  too,  is  the  mark  of  a  good  nature;  some  persons 
think  of  God  only  as  a  terror." 


272  CHILDREN  OF  THE   SOIL. 

And  ill  the  church  that  came  again  to  his  mind  of  which 
he  had  thought  during  his  first  visit  to  Kreinen,  when 
he  was  at  the  church  in  Vantory,  with  old  Plavitski: 
"  Destruction  takes  all  philosophies  and  systems,  one  after 
another;  but  Mass  is  celebrated  as  of  old."  It  seemed  to 
him  that  in  that  there  was  something  which  passed  com- 
prehension. He  who,  because  of  Litka,  had  come  in  con- 
tact with  death  in  a  manner  most  painful,  returned  to 
those  dark  problems  whenever  he  happened  to  be  in  a 
cemetery,  or  a  church  at  Mass,  or  in  any  circumstances 
whatever  in  which  something  took  place  which  had  no 
connection  Avith  the  current  business  of  life,  but  was 
shrouded  in  that  future  beyond  the  grave.  He  was  struck 
by  this  thought,  —  how  much  is  done  in  this  life  for  that 
future ;  and  how,  in  spite  of  all  philosophizing  and  doubt, 
people  live  as  if  that  future  were  entirely  beyond  question; 
how  much  of  petty  personal  egotisms  are  sacrificed  for  it; 
how  many  philanthropic  deeds  are  performed;  how  asylums, 
hospitals,  retreats,  churches  are  built,  and  all  on  an  account 
payable  beyond  the  grave  only. 

He  was  struck  still  more  by  another  thought,  —  that  to 
be  reconciled  with  life  really,  it  is  necessary  to  be  reconciled 
with  death  first;  and  that  without  faith  in  something  be- 
yond the  grave  this  reconciliation  is  simply  impossible. 
But  if  you  have  faith  the  question  drops  away,  as  if  it  had 
never  existed.  "Let  the  devils  take  mourning;  let  us 
rejoice;  "  for  if  this  is  true,  what  more  can  be  desired?  Is 
there  before  one  merely  the  view  of  some  new  existence, 
in  the  poorest  case ,  wonderfully  curious,  —  even  that  cer- 
tainty amounts  to  peace  and  quiet.  Pan  Stanislav  had  an 
example  of  that,  then,  in  Marynia.  Because  she  was  some- 
what short-sighted,  she  held  her  head  bent  over  the  book; 
bu£  when  at  moments  she  raised  it,  he  saw  a  face  so  calm, 
so  full  of  something  like  that  repose  which  a  flower  has, 
and  so  serene,  that  it  was  simply  angelic.  "That  is  a 
happy  woman,  and  she  will  be  happy  always,"  said  he  to 
himself.  "And,  besides,  she  has  sense,  for  if,  on  the  oppo- 
site side,  there  were  at  least  certainty,  there  would  be  also 
that  satisfaction  which  truth  gives;  but  to  torture  one's 
self  for  the  sake  of  various  marks  of  interrogation  is  pure 
folly." 

On  the  way  home,  Pan  Stanislav,  thinking  continually  of 
this  expression  of  Maryni  I's,  said,  — 

"In  the  church  you  looked  like  some  profile  of  Fra  An- 
gelico;  you  had  a  face  which  was  indeed  happy." 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  273 

"For  I  am  happy  at  present.  And  do  you  know  why? 
Because  I  am  better  than  I  was.  I  felt  at  one  time  offended 
in  heart,  and  I  was  dissatisfied ;  I  had  no  hope  before  me, 
and  all  these  put  together  formed  such  suffering  that  it  was 
terrible.  It  is  said  that  misfortune  ennobles  chosen  souls, 
but  I  am  not  a  chosen  soul.  For  that  matter,  misfortune 
may  ennoble,  but  suffering,  offence,  ill-will,  destroy.  They 
are  like  poison." 

"  Did  you  hate  me  much  then?  " 

Marynia  looked  at  him  and  answered,  "  I  hated  you  so 
much  that  for  whole  days  I  thought  of  you  only." 

"Mashko  has  wit;  he  described  this  once  thus  to  me- 
'  She  would  rather  hate  you  than  love  me. '  " 

"Oi !  that  I  would  rather,  is  true." 

Thus  conversing,  they  reached  the  house.  Pan  Stanislav 
had  time  then  to  unroll  his  parchment  hour-glass  and 
show  it  to  Marynia;  but  the  idea  did  not  please  her.  She 
looked  on  marriage  not  only  from  the  point  of  view  of  the 
heart,  but  of  religion.  "With  such  things  there  is  no 
jesting,"  said  she;  and  after  a  while  she  confessed  to  Pan 
Stanislav  that  she  was  offended  with  Bukatski. 

After  dinner  Bukatski  came.  During  those  few  months 
of  his  stay  in  Ital}^  he  had  become  still  thinner,  which 
was  a  proof  against  the  efficacy  of  "chianti"  for  catarrh 
of  the  stomach.  His  nose,  with  its  thinness,  reminded 
one  of  a  knife-edge;  his  humorous  face,  smiling  with 
irony,  had  become,  as  it  were,  porcelain,  and  was  no  larger 
than  the  fist  of  a  grown  man.  He  was  related  both  to  Pan 
Stanislav  and  Marynia;  hence  he  said  what  he  pleased  in 
their  presence.  From  the  threshold  almost,  he  declared 
to  them  that,  in  view  of  the  increasing  number  of  mental 
deviations  in  the  world  at  present,  he  could  only  regret, 
but  did  not  wonder,  that  they  were  affianced.  He  had 
come,  it  is  true,  in  the  hope  that  he  would  be  able  to  save 
them,  but  he  saw  now  that  he  was  late,  and  that  nothing 
was  left  but  resignation.  Marynia  was  indignant  on  hear- 
ing this;  but  Pan  Stanislav,  who  loved  him,  said,  — 

"Preserve  thy  conceit  for  the  wedding  speech,  for^thou 
must  make  one;  and  now  tell  us  how  our  professor  is."  _ 

"He  has  grown  disturbed  in  mind  seriously,"  replied 
Bukatski. 

" Do  not  jest  in  that  way,"  said  Marynia. 

"And  so  much  without  cause,"  added  Pan  Stanislav. 

But  Bukatski  continued,  with  equal  seriousness:  *  Pro- 

18  .. 


274  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

fessor  Vaskovski  is  disturbed  in  mind,  and  here  are  my 
proofs  for  you :  First,  he  walks  through  Kome  without  a 
cap,  or  rather,  he  walked,  for  he  is  in  Perugia  at  present; 
second,  he  attacked  a  refined  young  English  lady,  and 
proved  to  her  that  the  English  are  Christians  in  private 
life  only,  —  that  the  relations  of  England  to  Ireland  are  not 
Christian;  third,  he  is  printing  a  pamphlet,  in  which  he 
shows  that  the  mission  of  reviving  and  renewing  history 
with  the  spirit  of  Christ  is  committed  to  the  youngest  of 
the  Aryans.    Confess  that  these  are  proofs." 

"We  knew  these  ways  before  his  departure;  if  nothing 
more  threatens  the  professor,  we  hope  to  see  him  in  good 
health." 

"He  does  not  think  of  returning." 

Pan  Stanislav  took  out  his  note-book,  wrote  some  words 
with  a  pencil,  and,  giving  them  to  Marynia,  said,  — 

"Read,  and  tell  me  if  that  is  good." 

"If  thou  write  in  my  presence,  I  withdraw,"  said 
Bukatski. 

"Xo,  no  !  this  is  no  secret." 

Marynia  became  as  red  as  a  cherry  from  delight,  and,  as 
if  not  wishing  to  believe  her  eyes,  asked,  — 

"Is  that  true?     It  is  not." 

"That  depends  on  you,"  answered  Pan  Stanislav. 

"  Ah,  Pan  Stas !  I  did  not  even  dream  of  that.  I  must 
tell  papa.     I  must." 

And  she  ran  out  of  the  room. 

"  If  I  were  a  poet,  I  would  hang  myself,"  said  Bukatski. 

"Why?" 

"  For  if  a  couple  of  words,  jotted  down  by  the  hand  of  a 
partner  in  the  house  of  Bigiel  and  Company,  can  produce 
more  impression  than  the  most  beautiful  sonnet,  it  is  better 
to  be  a  miller  boy  than  a  poet." 

But  Marynia,  in  the  rapture  of  her  joy,  forgot  the  note- 
book, so  Pan  Stanislav  showed  it  to  Bukatski,  saving. 
"Read."  ^    " 

Bukatski  read:  — 

"  After  the  wedding  Venice,  Florence,  Rome,  Naples.  Is  that 
well?"  ^ 

"Then  it's  a  journey  to  Italy?" 

"Yes.  Imagine,  she  has  not  been  abroad  in  her  life; 
and  Italy  has  always  seemed  to  her  an  enchanted  land, 
which  she  has  not  even  dreamed  of  seeing.      That  is  an 


C;HiLDKEN   OF  THE   SOIL.  275 

immense  delight  for  her;  and  what  the  deuce  wonder  is 
there,  if  I  think  out  a  little  pleasure  for  her?" 

"  Love  and  Italy !  O  God,  how  many  times  Thou  hast 
looked  on  that !     All  that  love  is  as  old  as  the  world." 

*'  Not  true !  Fall  in  love,  and  see  if  thou  'It  find  some- 
thing new  in  it." 

"  My  beloved  friend,  the  question  is  not  in  this,  that  I 
do  not  love  yet,  but  in  this,  — that  I  love  no  longer.  Years 
ago  I  dug  that  sphinx  out  of  the  sand,  and  it  is  no  longer 
a  riddle  to  me." 

"Bukatski,  get  married." 

"  I  cannot.  My  sight  is  too  faint,  and  my  stomach  too 
weak." 

"  What  hindrance  in  that?  " 

"Oh,  seest  thou,  a  woman  is  like  a  sheet  of  paper.  An 
angel  writes  on  one  side,  a  devil  on  the  other;  the  paper 
is  cut  through,  the  words  blend,  and  such  a  hash  is  made 
that  I  can  neither  read  nor  digest  it." 

"To  live  all  thy  life  on  conceits! " 

"I  shall  die,  as  well  as  thou,  who  art  marrying.  It 
seems  to  us  that  we  think  of  death,  but  it  thinks  more 
of  us." 

At  that  moment  Marynia  came  in  with  her  father,  who 
embraced  Pan  Stanislav,  and  said,  — 

"  Marynia  tells  me  that  't  is  thy  wish  to  go  to  Italy  after 
the  wedding." 

"If  my  future  lady  will  consent." 

"Thy  future  lady  will  not  only  consent,"  answered 
Marynia,  "but  she  has  lost  her  head  from  delight,  and 
wants  to  jump  through  the  room,  as  if  she  were  ten  years 
of  age." 

To  which  Plavitski  answered,  "  If  the  cross  of  a  solitary 
old  man  can  be  of  use  in  your  distant  journey,  I  will  bless 
you." 

And  he  raised  his  eyes  and  his  hand  toAvard  heaven,  to 
the  unspeakable  delight  of  Bukatski;  but  Marynia  drew 
down  the  raised  hand,  and,  kissing  it,  said  with  laughter,  — 

"There  Avill  be  time  for  that,  papa  ;  we  are  going  away 
only  after  the  wedding." 

"And,  speaking  plainl}^"  added  Bukatski,  "then  there 
will  be  a  buying  of  tickets,  and  giving  baggage  to  be 
weighed,  and  starting, — nothing  more." 

To  this  Plavitski  turned  to  the  cynic,  and  said,  with  a 
certain  unction,  — 


276  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

"Have  you  come  to  this,  — that  you  look  on  the  blessing 
of  a  lonely  old  man  and  a  father  as  superfluous?" 

Bukatski,  instead  of  an  answer,  embraced  Plavitski, 
kissed  him  near  the  waistcoat,  and  said,  — 

"But  would  the  *  lonely  old  man '  not  play  piquet,  so 
as  to  let  those  two  mad  heads  talk  themselves  out?  " 

"But  with  a  rubicon?"  asked  Plavitski. 

"  With  anything  you  like."  Then  he  turned  to  the  young 
couple :  "  Hire  me  as  a  guide  to  Italy." 

"I  do  not  think  of  it,"  answered  Pan  Stanislav.  "I 
have  been  in  Belgium  and  France,  no  farther.  Italy  I 
know  not;  but  I  want  to  see  what  will  interest  us,  not  what 
may  interest  thee.  I  have  seen  men  such  as  thou  art,  and 
I  know  that  through  over-refinement  they  go  so  far  that 
they  love  not  art,  but  their  own  knowledge  of  it." 

Here  Pan  Stanislav  continued  the  talk  with  Marynia. 

"  Yes,  they  go  so  far  that  they  lose  the  feeling  of  great, 
simple  art,  and  seek  something  to  occupy  their  sated  taste, 
and  exhibit  their  critical  knowledge.  They  do  not  see 
trees;  they  search  simply  for  knots.  The  greatest  things 
which  we  are  going  to  admire  do  not  concern  them,  but 
some  of  the  smallest  things,  of  which  no  one  has  heard; 
they  dig  names  out  of  obscurity,  occupy  themselves  in  one 
way  or  another,  persuade  themselves  and  others  that  things 
inferior  and  of  less  use  surpass  in  interest  the  better  and 
more  perfect.  Under  his  guidance  we  might  not  see  whole 
churches,  but  we  might  see  various  things  which  would 
have  to  be  looked ^at  through  cracks.  I  call  all  this  surfeit, 
abuse,  over-refinement,  and  we  are  simply  people." 

Marynia  looked  at  him  with  pride,  as  if  she  would  say, 
"  Oh,  that  is  what  is  called  speaking ! "  Her  pride  increased 
when  Bukatski  said, — 

"Thou  art  quite  right." 

But  she  was  indignant  when  he  added,  — 

"  And  if  thou  wert  not  right,  I  could  not  win  before  the 
tribunal." 

"I  beg  pardon,"  said  Marynia;  "I  am  not  blinded  in 
any  way." 

"But  I  am  not  an  art  critic  at  all." 

"On  the  contrary,  you  are." 

"If  I  am,  then,  I  declare  that  knowledge  embraces  a 
greater  number  of  details,  but  does  not  prevent  a  love  of 
great  art;  and  believe  not  Pan  Stanislav,  but  me." 

"No;  I  prefer  to  believe  him." 


CHILDREN  OF  THE   SOIL.  277 

*'Tliat  was  to  be  foreseen." 

Marynia  looked  now  at  one,  now  at  the  other,  with  a 
somewhat  anxious  face.  Meanwhile  Plavitski  came  with 
cards.  The  betrothed  walK:ed  through  the  rooms  hand  in 
hand;  Bukatski  began  to  be  wearied,  and  grew  more  and 
more  so.  Toward  the  end  of  the  evening  the  humor 
which  animated  him  died  out;  his  small  face  became  still 
smaller,  his  nose  sharper,  and  he  looked  like  a  dried 
leaf.  When  he  went  out  with  Pan  Stanislav,  the  latter 
inquired,  — 

"Somehow  thou  wert  not  so  vivacious?" 

"  I  am  like  a  machine :  while  I  have  fuel  within,  I  move; 
but  in  the  evening,  when  the  morning  supply  is  exhausted, 
I  stop." 

Pan  Stanislav  looked  at  him  carefully.  "  What  is  thy 
fuel?" 

"  There  are  various  kinds  of  coal.  Come  to  me :  I  will 
give  thee  a  cup  of  good  coffee;  that  will  enliven  us." 

"  Listen !  this  is  a  delicate  question,  but  some  one  told 
me  that  thou  hast  been  taking  morphine  this  long  time." 

"For  a  very  short  time,"  answered  Bukatski;  "if  thou 
could  only  know  what  horizons  it  opens." 

"And  it  kills—     Fear  God!" 

"  And  kills  !  Tell  me  sincerely,  has  this  ever  occurred  to 
thee,  that  it  is  possible  to  have  a  yearning  for  death?" 

"No;  I  understand  just  the  opposite." 

"But  I  will  give  thee  neither  morphine  nor  opium,"  said 
Bukatski,  at  length;  "only  good  coffee  and  a  bottle  of 
honest  Bordeaux.     That  will  be  an  innocent  orgy." 

After  some  time  they  arrived  at  Bukatski's.  It  was  the 
dwelling  of  a  man  of  real  wealth,  seemingly,  somewhat  un- 
inhabited, but  full  of  small  things  connected  with  art  and 
pictures  and  drawings.  Lamps  were  burning  in  a  number 
of  rooms,  for  Bukatski  could  not  endure  darkness,  even  in 
time  of  sleep. 

The  "Bordeaux"  was  found  promptly,  and  under  the 
machine  for  coffee  a  blue  flame  was  soon  burning.  Bukatski 
stretched  himself  on  the  sofa,  and  said,  all  at  once,  — 

"  Perhaps  thou  wilt  not  admit,  since  thou  seest  me  such 
a  filigree,  that  I  have  no  fear  of  death." 

"This  one  thing  I  have  at  times  admitted,  that  thou  art 
jesting  and  jesting,  deceiving  thyself  and  others,  while 
really  the  joke  is  not  in  thee,  and  this  is  all  artificial." 

"The  folly  of  people  amuses  me  somewhat." 


278  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

"But  if  thou  think  thyself  wise,  why  arrange  life  so 
vainly?"  Here  Pan  Stanislav  looked  around  on  bric-a- 
brac,  on  pictures,  and  added,  "In  all  this  surrounding  thou 
art  still  living  vainly." 

"Vainly  enough." 

"Thou  art  of  those  who  pretend.  What  a  disease  in 
this  society !  Thou  art  posing,  and  that  is  the  whole 
question." 

"Sometimes.     But,  for  that  matter,  it  becomes  natural." 

Under  the  influence  of  "Bordeaux"  Bukatski  grew  ani- 
jnated  gradually,  and  became  more  talkative,  though  cheer- 
fulness did  not  return  to  him. 

"Seestthou,"  said  he,  "one  thing, — I  do  not  pretend. 
All  which  I  myself  could  tell,  or  which  another  could  tell 
me,  I  have  thought  out,  and  said  long  since  to  my  soul.  I 
lead  the  most  stupid  and  the  vainest  life  possible.  Around 
me  is  immense  nothingness,  which  I  fear,  and  which  I 
fence  out  with  this  lumber  which  thou  seest  in  this  room; 
I  do  this  so  as  to  fear  less.  Isoi  to  fear  death  is  another 
thing,  for  after  death  there  are  neither  feelings  nor 
thoughts.  I  shall  become,  then,  a  part  also  of  nothing- 
ness; but  to  feel  it,  while  one  is  alive,  to  know  of  it,  to 
give  account  to  one's  self  of  it,  as  God  lives,  there  can  be 
nothing  more  abject.  Moreover,  the  condition  of  my 
health  is  really  bad,  and  takes  from  me  every  energy.  I 
have  no  fuel  in  myself,  therefore  I  add  it.  There  is  less 
in  this  of  posing  and  pretending  than  thou  wilt  admit. 
When  I  have  given  myself  fuel,  I  take  life  in  its  humorous 
aspect;  I  follow  the  example  of  the  sick  man,  who  lies  ou 
the  side  on  which  he  lies  with  most  comfort.  For  me 
there  is  most  comfort  thus.  That  the  position  is  artificial, 
I  admit;  every  other,  however,  would  be  more  painful. 
And  see,  the  subject  is  exhausted." 

"If  thou  would  undertake  some  work." 

"Give  me  peace.  To  begin  with,  I  know  a  multitude  of 
things,  but  I  don't  understand  anything;  second,  I  am 
sick;  third,  tell  a  paralytic  to  walk  a  good  deal  when  he 
cannot  use  his  legs.  The  subject  is  exhausted!  Drink 
that  wine  there,  and  let  us  talk  about  thee.  That  is  a  good 
lady,  Panna  Plavitski ;  and  thou  art  doing  well  to  marry 
her.  What  I  said  to  thee  there  in  the  daytime  does  not 
count.     She  is  a  good  lady,  and  loves  thee." 

Here  Bukatski,  enlivened  and  roused  evidently  by  the 
wine,  began  to  speak  hurriedly.  *  " 


CHILDREN  OF  THE   SOIL.  279 

"What  I  say  in  the  daytime  does  not  count.  Now  it  is 
night;  let  us  drink  wine,  and  a  moment  of  more  sincerity 
comes.  Dost  wish  more  wine,  or  coffee?  I  like  this  odor ; 
one  should  mix  Mocha  and  Ceylon  in  equal  parts.  Now 
comes  a  time  of  more  sincerity!  Knowest  thou  what  I 
think  at  bottom?  I  have  no  clear  idea  of  what  happiness 
fame  may  give,  for  1  do  not  possess  it;  and  since  the 
Ephesian  temple  is  tired,  there  is  no  opening  to  fame 
before  me.  I  admit,  however,  so,  to  myself,  that  the 
amount  of  it  might  be  eaten  by  a  mouse,  not  merely  on  an 
empty  stomach,  bvit  after  a  good  meal  in  a  pantry.  But  I 
know  what  property  is,  for  I  have  a  little  of  it;  I  know 
what  travelling  is,  for  I  have  wandered;  I  know  what 
freedom  is,  for  I  am  free;  I  know  what  women  are  —  oi, 
devil  take  it  !  —  too  well,  and  I  know  what  books  are. 
Besides,  in  this  chamber,  I  have  a  few  pictures,  a  few 
drawings,  a  little  porcelain.  Now  listen  to  what  I  will 
say  to  thee:  All  this  is  notliing;  all  is  vanity,  folly,  dust, 
in  comparison  with  one  heart  which  loves.  This  is  the 
result  of  my  observations;  only  I  have  come  to  it  at  the 
end,  while  normal  men  reach  it  at  the  beginning." 

Here  he  began  to  stir  the  coffee  feverishly  with  a  spoon; 
and  Pan  Stanislav,  who  was  very  lively,  sprang  up  and 
said,  — 

"  And  thou,  0  beast !  what  didst  thou  say  some  months 
since,  —  that  thou  wert  going  to  Italy  because  there  no  one 
loved  thee,  and  thou  didst  love  no  one  ?  Dost  remember? 
Thou 'It  deny,  perhaps." 

"But  what  did  I  say  this  afternoon  to  thy  betrothed? 
That  thou  and  she  had  gone  mad ;  and  now  I  say  that  thou 
art  doing  well.  Dost  wish  logic  of  me?  To  talk  and  to 
say  something  are  two  different  things.  But  now  I  am 
more  sincere,  for  I  have  drunk  half  a  bottle  of  wine." 

Pan  Stanislav  began  to  walk  through  the  room  and 
repeat :  "  But,  as  God  lives,  it  is  fabulous  !  See  what  the 
root  of  the  matter  is,  and  what  they  all  say  when  cornered." 

"To  love  is  good,  but  there  is  something  still  better,— 
that  is,  to  be  loved.  There  is  nothing  above  that!  As  to 
me,  I  would  give  for  it  all  these;  but  it  is  not  worth  while 
to  talk  of  me.  Life  is  a  comedy  badly  written,  and  with- 
out talent:  even  that  which  pains  terribly  is  sometimes 
like  a  poor  melodrama;  but  in  life,  if  there  be  anything 
good,  it  is  to  be  loved.  Imagine  to  thyself,  I  have  not 
known  that,  and  thou  hast  found  it  without  seeking." 


280  CHILDREN   OF   THE   SOIL. 

"Do  not  say  so,  for  thou  knowest  rot  how  it  came  to 
me." 

"  I  know ;  Vaskovski  told  me.  That,  however,  is  all  one. 
The  question  is  this,  — thou  hast  known  how  to  value  it." 

"Well,  what  dost  thou  wish?  I  understand  that  I  am 
loved  a  little;  hence  I  marry,  and  that  is  the  end  of  the 
matter." 

Thereupon  Bukatski  put  his  hand  on  Pan  Stanislav's 
shoulder. 

"Xo,  Polanyetski;  I  am  a  fool  in  respect  to  myself, 
but  not  a  bad  observer  of  what  is  passing  around  me.  That 
is  not  the  end,  but  the  beginning.  Most  men  say,  as  thou 
hast,  '  I  marr}',  — that  is  the  end; '  and  most  men  deceive 
themselves." 

"That  philosophy  I  do  not  understand." 

"But  thou  seest  what  the  question  is?  It  is  not  enough 
to  take  a  woman ;  a  man  should  give  himself  to  her  also, 
and  should  feel  that  he  does  so.     Dost  understand?" 

"Xot  greatly." 

"Well,  thou  art  feigning  simplicity.  She  should  not 
only  feel  herself  owned,  but  an  owner.  A  soul  for  a  soul ! 
otherwise  a  life  may  be  lost.  Marriages  are  good  or  bad. 
Mashko's  will  be  bad  for  twenty  reasons,  and  among  others 
for  this,  of  which  I  wish  to  speak." 

"He  is  of  another  opinion.  But,  as  Grod  lives,  it  is  a 
pity  that  thou  art  not  married,  since  thou  hast  such  a 
sound  understanding  of  how  married  life  should  be." 

"If  to  understand  and  to  act  according  to  that  under- 
standing were  the  same,  there  would  not  be  the  various, 
very  various  events,  from  which  the  bones  ache  in  all  of 
us.     For  that  matter,  imagine  me  marrying." 

Here  Bukatski  began  to  laugh  with  his  thin  little  voice. 
Joyfulness  returned  to  him  on  a  sudden,  and  with  it  the 
vision  of  things  on  the  comic  side. 

"Thou  wilt  be  ridiculous;  but  what  should  I  be?  Some- 
thing to  split  one's  sides  at.  What  a  moment  that  is ! 
Thou  wilt  see  in  two  weeks.  For  instance,  how  thou  wilt 
dress  for  church.  Here,  love,  beating  of  the  heart,  solemn 
thoughts,  a  new  epoch  in  life;  there,  the  gardener,  with 
flowers,  a  dress-coat,  lost  studs,  the  tying  of  a  cravat,  the 
drawing  on  of  patent-leather  boots,  —  all  at  one  time,  one 
chaos,  one  confusion.  Deliver  me,  angels  of  paradise !  I 
have  compassion  on  thee,  my  dear  friend;  and  do  thou,  I 
beg,  not  take  seriously  what  I  sav.     There  is  a  new  moon 


CHILDREN  OF  THE   SOIL.  281 

now,  and  I  have  a  mania  for  uttering  commonplace  senti- 
ment at  the  new  moon.  All  folly!  — the  new  moon,  noth- 
ing more  !  I  have  grown  as  soft-hearted  as  a  ewe  who  has 
lost  her  first  lamb  ;  and  may  the  cough  split  me,  if  I 
haven't  uttered  commonplace!" 

But  Pan  Stauislav  attacked  him  :  "  I  have  seen  many  vain 
things  ;  but  knowest  thou  what  seems  to  me  vainest  in  thee 
and  those  like  thee  ?  Thou  and  they,  who  absolve  your- 
selves from  everything,  recognize  nothing  above  you,  and 
fear  like  fire  every  honest  truth,  for  the  one  reason  that 
some  one  might  sometime  declare  it.  How  bad  this  is 
words  cannot  tell.  As  to  thee,  my  dear  friend,  thou  wert 
sincerer  a  while  since  than  now.  Again,  thou  'rt  a  poodle, 
dancing  on  two  legs ;  but  I  tell  thee  that  ten  like  thee  could 
not  show  me  that  I  have  not  won  a  great  prize  in  the 
lottery." 

He  took  farewell  of  Bukatski  witli  a  certain  anger ;  on 
the  road  home,  however,  he  grew  pacified  and  repeated  con- 
tinually :  ''See  where  the  truth  is;  see  what  Mashko,  and 
even  Bukatski,  says,  when  ready  to  be  sincere;  but  I 
have  won  simply  a  great  prize,  and  I  will  not  waste  what 
I  have  won." 

When  he  entered  his  lodgings  and  saw  Litka's  photo- 
graph, he  exclaimed,  "My  dearest  kitten!"  Up  to  the 
moment  of  sleeping  he  thought  of  Marynia  with  pleasure, 
and  with  the  calmness  of  a  man  who  feels  that  some  great 
problem  of  life  has  been  settled  decisively,  and  settled 
well.  For,  in  spite  of  Bukatski's  words,  he  was  convinced 
that,  since  he  was  going  to  marry,  all  would  be  decided  and 
ended  by  that  one  act. 


282  CHILDKEN  or  THE  SOIL. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

The  "catastrophe,"  as  Bukatski  called  it,  came  at  last. 
Pan  Stanislav  learned  by  experience  that  if  in  life  tlieie 
are  many  days  in  which  a  man  cannot  seize  his  own 
thoughts,  to  such  belong  above  all  the  day  of  his  marriage. 
At  times  a  number  of  these  thouglits  circled  in  his  brain  at 
one  moment,  and  were  so  indefinite,  that,  speaking  accu- 
rately, they  were  rather  unconscious  impressions  than 
thoughts.  He  felt  that  a  new  epoch  in  life  was  beginning, 
that  he  was  assuming  great  obligations  which  he  ought  to 
fulfil  conscientiously  and  seriously ;  and  at  the  same  time, 
but  exactly  at  the  same  time,  he  wondered  that  the  car- 
riage was  n't  coming  yet,  and  expressed  his  astonishment  in 
the  form  of  a  threat :  •'  If  those  scoundrels  are  late,  I  '11 
break  their  necks  for  them."  At  moments  a  solemn,  and, 
as  it  were,  noble  fear  of  that  future  for  which  he  had 
assumed  responsibility  was  mastering  him  ;  he  felt  with- 
in him  a  certain  elevation,  and  in  this  feeling  of  elevation 
he  began  to  lather  his  beard,  and  he  thought  whether  on 
such  an  exceptional  day  it  would  not  be  exceptionally 
worth  while  to  bring  in  a  barber  to  his  somewhat  dis- 
hevelled hair.  Marynia  at  the  same  time  was  at  the  basis 
of  all  his  impressions.  He  saw  her,  as  if  present.  He- 
thought  :  "  At  this  moment,  she  too  is  dressing,  she  is 
standing  in  her  chamber  in  front  of  the  mirror,  she  is  talk- 
ing to  her  maid,  her  soul  is  flying  toward  me,  and  her 
heart  beats  unquietly."  That  instant  tenderness  seized  him 
and  he  said  to  himself,  "But  have  no  fear,  honest  soul,  for, 
as  God  lives,  I  will  not  wrong  thee;  "  and  he  saw  himself  in 
the  future,  kind,  considerate,  so  that  he  began  to  look  with 
a  certain  emotion  at  the  patent-leather  boots  standing  near 
the  armchair,  on  which  his  wedding-suit  was  lying.  He 
repeated  from  time  to  time  too,  "If  to  marry,  then 
marry ! "  He  said  to  himself  that  he  was  stupid  to  hesi- 
tate, for  another  such  ^Marynia  there  was  not  on  earth  ;  he 
felt  that  he  loved  her,  and  thought  at  the  same  time  that 
the  weather  was  not  bad,  but  that  perhaps  rain  might  fall ; 
that  it  might  be  cold  in  the  Church  of  the  Visitation  ;  that  in 
an  hour  he  would  be  kneeling  by  Marynia,  that  a  white  neck- 


CHILDREN  OF   THE  SOIL.  283 

tie  is  safer  knotted  than  pinned;  that  marriage  is  indeed 
the  most  important  ceremony  in  life  ;  that  there  is  in  it 
something  sacred,  and  that  one  must  not  lose  one's  head 
anyhow,  for  in  an  hour  it  will  be  over;  to-morrow  they 
will  depart,  and  then  the  normal  quiet  life  of  husband  and 
wife  will  begin. 

These  thoughts,  however,  flew  away  at  moments  like  a 
flock  of  sparrows,  into  which  some  one  has  fired  from 
behind  a  hedge  suddenly,  and  it  grew  empty  in  Pan  Stanis- 
lav's  head.  Then  phrases  of  this  kind  came  to  his  lips 
mechanically:  "The  eighth  of  April  —  to-morrow  will  be 
Wednesday !  to-morrow  will  be  Wednesday  !  my  watch ! 
to-morrow  will  be  Wednesday  ! "  Later  he  roused  him- 
self, repeated,  "  One  must  be  an  idiot ! "  and  the  scattered 
birds  flew  back  again  in  a  whole  flock  to  his  head,  and 
began  to  whirl  around  in  it. 

Meanwhile  Abdulski,  the  agent  of  the  house  of  Polany- 
etski,  Bigiel,  and  Company  came  in.  He  was  to  be  the 
second  groomsman,  with  Bukatski  as  first.  Being  a  Tartar 
by  origin  and  a  man  of  dark  complexion,  though  good-look- 
ing, he  seemed  so  handsome  in  the  dress-coat  and  white 
cravat  that  Pan  Stanislav  expressed  the  hope  that  surely 
he  would  marry  soon.     Abdulski  answered, — 

"  The  soul  would  to  paradise ;  "  then  he  commenced  a 
pantomime,  intended  to  represent  the  counting  of  money, 
and  began  to  speak  of  the  Bigiels.  All  their  children 
wanted  to  be  at  the  marriage.  The  Bigiels  decided  to  take 
only  the  two  elder  ones  ;  from  this  arose  disagreements  and 
difference  of  opinion,  expressed  on  PanI  Bigiel's  side  by 
means  of  slaps.  Pan  Stanislav,  who  was  a  great  children's 
man,  was  exceedingly  indignant  at  this,  and  said,  — 

"  I  '11  play  a  trick  on  the  Bigiels.  Have  they  gone  al- 
ready ?  " 

"  They  were  just  going." 

"  That  is  well ;  I  will  run  in  there  on  the  way  to  Plavit- 
ski's,  take  all  the  children,  and  pour  them  out  before  Pani 
Bigiel  and  my  affianced." 

Abdulski  expressed  the  conviction  that  Pan  Stanislav 
would  not  do  so  ;  but  he  merely  confirmed  him  thereby  in 
his  plan  all  the  more.  In  fact,  when  he  entered  the  car- 
riage, they  drove  for  the  children  directly.  The  governess, 
knowing  Pan  Stanislav's  relations  with  the  family,  dared 
not  oppose  him  ;  and  half  an  hour  later.  Pan  Stanislav,  to 
the  irreat  consternation  of  Pani  Bigiel,  entered  Plavitski's 


284  CHILDREN  OF  THE   SOIL. 

lodgings  at  the  head  of  a  whole  flock  of  little  Bigiels,  in 
their  every-day  clothing,  with  collars  awry,  hair  disarranged 
for  the  greater  part,  and  faces  half  happy,  half  frightened, 
and,  hurrying  up  to  Marynia,  he  said,  kissing  her  hands 
already  enclosed  in  white  gloves, — 

"  They  wanted  to  wrong  the  children.  Say  that  I  did 
well." 

This  proof  of  his  kind  heart  entertained  and  pleased 
Marynia ;  hence  she  was  glad  from  her  whole  soal  to  see 
the  children,  and  even  glad  of  this,  —  that  the  as^sembled 
guests  considered  her  future  husband  an  original,  —  and  glad 
because  Pani  Bigiel,  straightening  the  crooked  co  lars  hur- 
riedly, said  in  her  worry,  — 

"  What 's  to  be  done  with  such  a  madman  ?  " 

Somewhat  of  this  opinion  too  was  old  Plavijski.  But 
Pan  Stanislav  and  Marynia  were  occupied  for  the  moment 
with  each  other  so  exclusively  that  everything  else  vanished 
from  their  eyes.  The  hearts  of  both  beat  a  little  unquietly. 
He  looked  at  her  with  a  certain  admiration.  All  in  white, 
from  her  slippers  to  her  gloves,  with  a  green  wreath  on  her 
head,  and  a  long  veil,  she  seemed  to  him  other  than  usual. 
There  was  in  her  something  uncommonly  solemn,  as  in  the 
dead  Litka.  Pan  Stanislav  did  not  make,  it  is  true,  that 
comparison ;  but  he  felt  that  this  white  Marynia,  if  not  more 
remote  from  him,  made  him  hesitate  more  than  she  of 
yesterday,  arrayed  in  her  ordinary  costume.  Withal  she 
seemed  less  comely  than  usual,  for  the  wedding  wreath  is 
becoming  to  women  only  exceptionally,  and,  besides,  disquiet 
and  emotion  reddened  her  face ;  which,  with  the  white  robe, 
seemed  still  redder  than  it  was  in  reality.  But  a  wonderful 
thing  !  Just  this  circumstance  moved  Pan  Stanislav.  In 
his  heart,  rather  kind  by  its  nature,  there  rose  a  certain 
feeling  resembling  compassion  or  tenderness.  He  under- 
stood that  Marynia's  heart  must  be  panting  then  like  a 
captive  bird,  and  he  began  to  calm  her;  to  speak  to  her 
with  such  good  and  kind  words  that  he  was  astonished  him- 
self where  he  could  find  them  in  such  numbers,  and  how 
they  came  to  him  so  easily.  But  they  came  to  him  easily 
just  because  of  Marynia.  It  was  to  be  seen  that  she  gave 
herself  to  him  with  a  panting  of  the  heart,  but  also  with 
confidence ;  that  she  gave  him  her  heart,  her  soul,  and  her 
whole  being,  her  whole  life,  and  that  not  only  for  good,  but 
for  every  moment  of  her  life  —  and  to  the  end  of  it.  In 
this  regard  no  shadow  rose  in  Pan  Stanislav's  mind,  and 


childke:^  of  the  soil.  285 

that  certainty  made  him  better  at  that  moment,  more 
sensitive  and  eloquent,  tlian  he  was  ordinarily.  At  last  they 
held  each  the  other's  hand  and  looked  into  each  other's  eyes, 
not  only  with  love,  but  with  the  greatest  friendship  and 
confidence.  Both  felt  the  double  reality.  Yet  a  few  mo- 
ments, and  that  future  will  begin.  But  now  the  thoughts 
of  both  began  to  grow  clear ;  and  that  internal  disquiet, 
from  which  they  had  not  been  free,  yielded  more  and  more 
and  turned  into  a  solemn  concentration  of  thought,  as  the 
religious  ceremony  drew  near.  Pan  Stanislav's  thoughts 
did  not  fly  apart  like  sparrows ;  there  remained  to  him  only 
a  certain  astonishment,  as  it  were,  that  he  with  all  his 
scepticism  had  such  a  feeling  even  of  the  religious  signifi- 
cance of  the  act  which  was  about  to  be  accomplished.  At 
heart  he  was  not  a  sceptic.  In  his  soul  there  was  hidden 
even  a  certain  yearning  for  religious  sensations ;  and  if  he 
had  not  returned  to  them  it  was  only  through  a  loss  of 
habit  and  through  spiritual  negligence.  Scepticism,  at 
most,  had  shaken  the  surface  of  his  thoughts,  just  as  wind 
roughens  the  surface  of  water ;  the  depths  of  which  are  still 
calm.  He  had  lost,  too,  familiarity  with  forms;  but  to 
regain  it  was  a  work  for  the  future  and  INIarynia.  INfean- 
while  this  ceremony  to  which  he  must  yield  seemed  to  him 
so  important,  so  full  of  solemnity  and  sacredness,  that  he 
was  ready  to  proceed  to  it  with  bowed  head. 

But  first  he  had  another  ceremony,  which,  equally  solemn 
in  itself,  was  disagreeable  enough  to  Pan  Stanislav ;  namely, 
to  kneel  before  Pan  Plavitski,  whom  he  considered  a  fool, 
receive  his  blessing  and  hear  an  exhortation,  which,  as  was 
known,  Plavitski  would  not  omit.  Pan  Stanislav  had  said 
in  his  mind,  however,  "Since  I  am  to  marry,  I  must  pass 
throu^^h  all  which  precedes  it,  and  with  a  good  face ;  little 
do  I  care  what  expression  that  monkey,  Bukatski,  will  have 
at  such  moments."  Therefore  he  knelt  with  all  readiness 
at  Marynia's  side  before  her  father,  and  listened  to  his 
blessing  with  an  exhortation,  which,  by  the  way,  was  not 
Ion-  Plavitski  himself  was  moved  really ;  his  voice  and 
hisliands  trembled  ;  he  was  barely  able  to  pronounce  some- 
thing in  the  nature  of  an  adjuration  to  Pan  Stanislav,  not 
to  prevent  Marynia  from  coming  even  occasionally  to  pray 
at  his  grave  before  it  was  grown  over  completely  with  gra^s. 

Final! v,  the  solemnity  of  the  moment  affected  Yozio 
Bi-iol  "Seeing  Pan  Plavitski's  tears,  seeing  Marynia  anrt 
Pj^i  Stanislav^  on  their  knees  (kneeling  at  Bigiel  s  house 


286  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

was  not  only  a  punishment,  but  frequently  the  beginning 
of  more  vigorous  instruction),  Yozio  gave  expression  to  his 
sympathy  and  fear  by  closing  his  eyes,  opening  his  mouth, 
and  breaking  into  as  piercing  a  wail  as  he  could  utter. 
AVhen  the  rest  of  the  little  Bigiels  followed  his  example  in 
great  part,  and  all  began  to  move,  for  the  time  to  pass  to 
the  church  had  arrived,  the  grave  of  Pan  Plavitski  grown 
over  with  grass  could  not  call  forth  an  impression  suffi- 
ciently elegiac. 

Sitting  in  the  carriage  between  Abdulski  and  Bukatski, 
Pan  Stanislav  hardly  answered  their  questions  in  half 
words  ;  he  took  no  part  in  the  conversation,  but  kept  up  a 
monologue  with  himself.  He  thought  that  in  a  couple  of 
minutes  that  would  come  to  pass  of  which  he  had  been 
dreaming  whole  months  ;  and  which  till  the  death  of  Litka 
he  had  desired  with  the  greatest  earnestness  of  his  life. 
Here  for  the  last  time  he  was  roused  by  a  feeling  of  the 
difference  between  that  past  which  not  long  since  had  van- 
ished, and  the  present  moment ;  but  there  was  a  difference. 
Formerly  he  strove  and  desired ;  to-day  he  only  wished  and 
consented.  That  thought  pierced  him  like  a  shudder,  for  it 
shot  through  his  head  that  perhaps  there  was  lacking  in 
his  own  personality  that  basis  on  which  one  may  build. 
But  he  was  a  man  able  to  keep  his  alarms  in  close  bonds, 
and  to  scatter  them  to  the  four  winds  at  a  given  moment. 
He  said  to  himself,  therefore  :  "  First,  there  is  no  time  to 
think  of  this ;  and  second,  reality  does  not  answer  always 
to  imaginings;  this  is  a  simple  thing."  Then  what 
Bukatski  had  said  pushed  again  into  his  memory :  "  It  is  not 
enough  to  take,  a  man  must  give  ; "  but  he  thought  this  a 
fabric  of  such  fine  threads  that  it  had  no  existence  what- 
ever, and  that  life  should  be  taken  more  simply,  that  there 
is  no  obligation  to  come  to  terms  with  preconceived  theories. 
Here  he  repeated  what  he  had  said  to  himself  frequently, 
"  I  marry,  and  that  is  tKe  end."  Then  reality  embraced 
him,  or  rather  the  present  moment ;  he  had  nothing  in  his 
head  but  Marynia,  the  church,  and  the  ceremony. 

She  on  the  way  meanwhile  implored  God  in  silence  to 
help  her  to  make  her  husband  happy ;  for  herself  she 
begged  also  a  little  happiness,  being  certain,  moreover, 
that  her  dead  mother  would  obtain  that  for  lier. 

Then  they  went  arm  in  arm  between  the  lines  of  invited 
and  curious  people,  seeing  somewhat  as  through  a  mist 
lights  gleaming  in  the  distance  on  the  altar,  and  at  the  sides 


CHILDREN  OF  THE   SOIL.  287 

faces  known  and  unknown.  Both  saw  more  distinctly  the 
face  of  Pani  Emilia,  who  wore  the  white  veil  of  a  Sister  of 
Charity,  her  eyes  at  once  smiling  and  tilled  with  tears. 
Litka  came  to  the  minds  of  both ;  and  it  occurred  to  them 
that  it  was  precisely  she  who  was  conducting  them  to  the 
altar.  After  a  while  they  knelt  down  ;  before  them  was  the 
priest,  higher  up  the  gleaming  of  the  candles,  the  glitter  of 
gold,  and  the  holy  face  of  the  principal  image.  The  cere- 
mony commenced.  They  repeated  after  the  priest  the 
usual  phrases  of  the  marriage  vow ;  and  Pan  Stanislav,  hold- 
ing Marynia's  hand,  was  seized  suddenly  by  emotion  such 
as  he  had  not  expected,  and  such  as  he  had  not  felt  since 
his  mother  had  brought  him  to  tirst  communion.  He  felt 
that  that  was  not  a  mere  every-day  legal  act,  in  virtue  of 
which  a  man  receives  the  right  to  a  woman ;  but  in  that 
binding  of  hands,  in  that  vow,  there  is  present  a  certain 
mysterious  power  from  beyond  this  world,  —  that  it  is  simply 
God  before  whom  the  soul  inclines  and  the  heart  trembles. 
The  ears  of  both  were  struck  then  in  the  midst  of  silence 
by  the  solemn  words,  "  Quod  Deus  junxit,  homo  non  dis. 
jungat  ;  "  but  Pan  Stanislav  felt  that  that  Marynia  whom 
he  had  taken  becomes  his  body  and  blood,  and  a  part  of  his 
soul,  and  that  for  her  too  he  must  be  the  same.  That  mo- 
ment a  chorus  of  voices  in  the  choir  burst  out  with  "  Veni 
Creator,'^  and  a  few  moments  after  the  Polanyetskis  went 
forth  from  the  church.  On  the  way  out,  the  arms  of  Pani 
Emilia  embraced  Marynia  once  again  :  "  May  God  bless 
you ! "  and  when  they  drove  to  the  wedding  reception,  she 
went  to  the  cemetery  to  tell  Litka  the  news,  that  Pan  Stas 
was  married  that  day  to  Marynia. 


288  CHILDREN  OF  THE   SOIL. 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

Two  weeks  later,  in  Venice,  the  doorkeeper  of  the  Hotel 
Bauer  gave  Pan  Stanislav  a  letter  with  the  postmark  of 
Warsaw.  It  was  at  the  moment  when  he  and  his  wife  were 
entering  a  gondola  to  go  to  the  church  of  Santa  Maria  della 
Salute,  where  on  that  day,  the  anniversary  of  her  death,  a 
Mass  was  to  be  offered  for  the  soul  of  Marynia's  mother. 
Pan  Stanislav,  who  expected  nothing  important  from  War- 
saw, put  the  letter  in  his  pocket,  and  asked  his  wife,  — 

"But  is  it  not  a  little  too  early  for  Mass?" 

"It  is;  a  whole  half  hour." 

"Then  perhaps  it  would  please  thee  to  go  first  to  the 
Rialto?" 

Maryuia  was  always  ready  to  go.  Never  having  been 
abroad  before,  she  simply  lived  in  continual  rapture,  and 
it  seemed  to  her  that  all  which  surrounded  her  was  a  dream. 
More  than  once,  in  the  excess  of  her  delight,  she  threw 
herself  on  her  husband's  neck,  as  if  he  had  built  Venice, 
as  if  she  ought  to  thank  him  alone  for  its  beauty.  More 
than  once  she  repeated,  — 

"I  look  and  I  see,  but  cannot  believe  that  this  is  real." 

So  they  went  to  the  Rialto.  There  was  little  movement 
yet,  because  of  the  early  hour;  the  water  was  as  if  sleep- 
ing, the  day  calm,  clear,  but  not  very  bright,  — one  of  those 
days  in  which  the  Grand  Canal  with  all  its  beauty  has  the 
repose  of  a  cemetery;  the  palaces  seem  deserted  and  for- 
gotten, and  in  their  motionless  reflection  in  the  water  is 
that  peculiar  deep  sadness  of  dead  things.  One  looks  at 
them  then  in  silence,  and  as  if  in  fear,  lest  by  words  the 
general  repose  may  be  broken. 

Thus  did  Marynia  look.  But  Pan  Stanislav,  less  sensi- 
tive, remembered  that  he  had  a  letter  in  his  pocket,  hence 
he  drew  it  forth,  and  began  to  read.  After  a  time  he 
exclaimed,  — 

"Ah!  Mashko  is  married;  their  wedding  was  three  days 
after  ours." 

But  Marynia,  as  if  roused  from  a  dream,  inquired,  while 
blinking,  "  What  dost  thou  say?  " 

"I  say,  dreaming  head,  that  Mashko's  wedding  is  over.' 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  289 

She  rested  her  head  on  his  shoulder,  and,  looking  into 
his  eyes,  inquired,  — 

"What  is  Mashko  to  me?  I  have  my  Stas." 

Pan  Stanislav  smiled  like  a  man  who  kindly  permits 
jiimself  to  be  loved,  but  does  not  wonder  that  he  is  loved; 
then  he  kissed  his  wife  on  the  forehead,  with  a  certain 
distraction,  for  the  letter  had  begun  to  occupy  him,  and 
read  on.  All  at  once  he  sprang  up,  as  if  something  had 
pricked  him,  and  cried,  — 

"  Oh,  that  is  a  real  catastrophe ! " 

"What  has  happened?" 

"  Panna  Kraslavski  has  a  life  annuity  of  nine  thousand 
rubles,  which  her  uncle  left  her;  beyond  that,  not  a 
copper." 

"But  that  is  a  good  deal." 

"  A  good  deal?     Hear  what  Mashko  writes :  — 

" '  In  view  of  this,  my  bankruptcy  is  an  accomplished  fact,  and  the 
declaration  of  my  insolvency  a  question  of  time.' 

"They  deceived  each  other;  dost  .understand?  He 
sounted  on  her  property,  and  she  on  his." 

"At  least  they  have  something  to  live  on." 

"  They  have  something  to  live  on ;  but  Mashko  has  noth- 
ing with  which  to  pay  his  debts,  and  that  coucerns  us  a 
little,  —  me,  thee,  and  thy  father.     All  may  be  lost." 

Here  Marynia  was  alarmed  in  earnest.  "My  Stas,"  said 
she,  "perhaps  thy  presence  is  needed  there;  let  us  return, 
then.     What  a  blow  this  will  be  to  papa!  " 

"I  will  write  Bigiel  immediately  to  take  my  place,  and 
save  what  is  possible.  Do  not  take  this  business  to  heart 
too  much,  my  child.  I  have  enough  to  buy  a  bit  of  bread 
for  us  both,  and  for  thy  father." 

Marynia  put  her  arms  around  his  neck.  "Thou,  my 
good —     With  such  a  man  one  may  be  at  rest." 

"Besides,  something  will  be  saved.  If  Mashko  finds 
credit,  he  will  pay  us;  he  may  find  a  purchaser,  too,  for 
Kremen.  He  writes  me  to  ask  Bukatski  to  buy  Kremen, 
and  to  persuade  him  to  do  so.  Bukatski  is  going  to  Rome 
this  evening,  and  I  have  invited  him  to  lunch.  I  will  ask 
him.  He  has  a  considerable  fortune,  and  would  have 
something  to  do.  I  am  curious  to  know  how  Mashko's 
life  will  develop.     He  writes  at  the  end  of  the  letter : 

"  •  I  discovered  the  condition  of  affairs  to  my  wife;  she  bore  herself 
passively,  but  her  mother  is  wild  with  indignation.' 

19 


290  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

"Finally  he  adds  that  at  last  he  has  fallen  in  love  with 
his  wife,  and  that  if  they  should  separate,  it  would  be  the 
greatest  uuhappiness  in  life  for  him.  That  lyric  tale  gives 
ine  little  concern;  but  I  am  curious  as  to  how  all  this  will 
end." 

"She  will  not  desert  him,"  said  Marynia. 

"  I  do  not  know ;  I  thought  myself  once  that  she  would 
not,  but  I  like  to  contradict.     Wilt  thou  bet?  " 

"No;  for  I  do  not  wish  to  win.  Thou  ugly  man,  thou 
hast  no  knowledge  of  women." 

"On  the  contrary,  I  know  them;  and  I  know  them 
because  all  are  not  like  this  little  one  who  is  sailing  now 
in  a  gondola." 

"In  a  gondola  in  Venice,  with  her  Stas,"  answered 
Marynia. 

They  were  now  at  the  church.     When  they  went  from 
Mass  to  the  hotel,  they  found  Bukatski,  dressed  for  the. 
road,  in  a  cross-barred  gray  suit, —  which,  on  his  frail  body, 
seemed  too  large,  —  in  yellow  shoes  and  a  fantastic  cravat, 
tied  as  fancifully  as  carelessly. 

"I  am  going  to-day,"  said  he,  after  he  had  greeted 
Marynia.  "Do  you  command  me  to  prepare  a  dwelling  in 
Florence  for  you?     I  can  engage  some  palace." 

"Then  you  will  halt  on  the  road  to  Rome?" 

"Yes.  First,  to  give  notice  in  the  gallery  of  your 
coming,  and  to  put  a  sofa  on  the  stairs  for  you;  second,  I 
halt  for  black  coifee,  which  is  bad  throughout  Italy  in 
general,  but  in  Florence,  at  Giacosa's,  Via  Tornabuoni,  it 
is  exceptionally  excellent.  That,  however,  is  the  one 
thing  of  value  in  Florence." 

"  What  pleasure  is  there  for  you  in  always  saying  some- 
thing different  from  what  you  think?" 

"But  I  am  thinking  seriously  of  engaging  nice  lodgings 
on  Lung-Arno  for  you." 

"  We  shall  stop  at  Verona." 

"For  Romeo  and  Juliet?  Of  course;  of  course!  Go 
now;  later  you  would  shrug  your  shoulders  if  you  thought 
of  them.  In  a  month  it  would  be  too  late  for  you  to  go, 
perhaps." 

Marynia  started  up  at  him  like  a  cat;  then,  turning  to 
her  husband,  said,  — 

"Stas,  don't  let  this  gentleman  annoy  me  so! " 

"Well,"  answered  Pan  Stanislav,  "I  will  cut  his  head 
off,  but  after  lunch." 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  _  291 

Bukatski  began  to  declaim :  — 

"  It  is  not  yet  near  day  : 
It  was  the  nightiugale,  and  not  the  lark, 
That  pierc'd  the  fearful  liollow  of  thine  ear." 

Then,  turning  to  Marynia,  he  inquired,  "  Has  Pan  Stanislav 
written  a  sonnet  for  you?" 

"No." 

"Oh,  that  is  a  bad  sign.  You  have  a  balcony  on  the 
street;  has  it  never  come  once  to  his  head  to  stand  under 
your  balcony  with  a  guitar?" 

"No." 

"Oh,  very  bad!" 

"But  there  is  no  place  to  stand  here,  for  there  is  water." 

"  He  might  go  in  a  gondola.  With  us  it  is  different,  you 
see ;  but  here  in  Italy  the  air  is  such  that  if  a  man  is  in 
love  really,  he  either  writes  sonnets,  or  stands  under  a 
balcony  with  a  guitar.  It  is  a  thing  perfectly  certain, 
resulting  from  the  geographical  position,  the  currents  of 
the  sea,  the  chemical  make-up  of  the  air  and  the  water: 
if  a  man  does  not  write  sonnets,  or  stand  out  of  doors  with 
a  guitar,  surely  he  is  not  in  love.  I  can  bring  you  very 
famous  books  on  this  subject." 

"It  seems  that  I  shall  be  driven  to  cut  his  head  ofF 
before  lunch,"  said  Fan  Stanislav. 

The  execution,  how^ever,  did  not  come,  for  the  reason 
that  it  was  just  time  for  lunch.  They  sat  down  at  a 
separate  table,  but  in  the  same  hall  was  a  general  one, 
which  for  Marynia,  whom  everything  interested,  was  a 
source  of  pleasure,  too,  for  she  saw  real  English  people. 
This  made  on  her  such  an  impression  as  if  she  had  gone 
to  some  land  of  exotics;  for  since  Kremen  is  Kremen,  not 
one  of  its  inhabitants  had  undertaken  a  similar  journey. 
For  Bukatski,  and  even  Pan  Stanislav,  her  delight  was  a 
source  of  endless  jokes,  but  also  of  genuine  pleasure.  The 
first  said  that  she  reminded  him  of  his  youth;  the  second 
called  his  wife  a  "field  daisy,"  and  said  that  one  was  not 
sorry  to  show  the  world  to  a  woman  like  her.  Bukatski 
noticed,  however,  that  the  "field  daisy"  had  much  feeling 
for  art  and  much  honesty.  Many  things  were  known  to 
her  from  books  or  pictures;  not  knowing  others,  she 
acknowlpdgpd  tliis  openly,  but  in  her  expressions  there 
was  nothing  artificial  or  affected.  When  a  thing  touched 
her  heart,  her  delight  had  no  bounds,   so  that  her  eyes 


292  CHILDREN  OF  THE   SOIL. 

became  moist.  At  one  time  Bukatski  jested  with  her 
unmercifully;  at  another  he  persuaded  her  that  all  the 
connoisseurs,  so  called,  have  a  nail  in  the  head,  and  that 
she,  as  a  sensitive  and  retined  nature,  and  so  far  unspoiled, 
was  for  him  of  the  greatest  importance  in  questions  of  art; 
she  would  be  still  more  important  if  she  were  ten  years 
of  age. 

At  lunch  they  did  not  talk  of  art,  because  Fan  Stanislav 
remembered  his  news  from  Warsaw,  and  said,  — 

"I  had  a  letter  from  Mashko." 

"And  I,  too,"  answered  Bukatski. 

"And  thou?  They  must  be  hurried  there;  Mashko  must 
be  pressed  in  real  earnest.  Is  the  question  known  to 
thee?" 

"He  persuades  me,  or  rather,  he  implores  me,  to  buy  — 
dost  thou  know  what?" 

Bukatski  avoided  Kremen,  knowing  well  what  trouble 
it  had  caused,  and  was  silent  through  delicacy  toward 
Marynia. 

But  Pan  Stanislav,  understanding  his  intention,  said,  — 

"Oh,  my  God!  Once  we  avoided  that  name  as  a  sore 
spot,  but  now,  before  my  wife,  it  is  something  different. 
It  is  hard  to  be  tied  up  a  whole  lifetime." 

Bukatski  looked  at  him  quickly;  Marynia  blushed  a 
iittle,  and  said,  — 

"  Stas  is  perfectly  right.  Besides,  I  know  that  it  is  a 
question  of  Kremen." 

"Yes,  it  is  of  Kremen." 

"Well,  and  what?"  asked  Pan  Stanislav. 

"I  should  not  buy  it  even  because  of  this, — that  the 
lady  might  have  the  impression  that  people  are  tossing 
it  about  like  a  ball." 

"If  I  do  not  think  at  all  of  Kremen?"  said  Marynia, 
blushing  still  more.  She  looked  at  her  husband;  and  he 
nodded  in  sign  of  praise  and  satisfaction. 

"That  is  a  proof,"  answered  he,  "that  thou  art  a  child 
of  good  judgment." 

"At  the  same  time,"  continued  Marynia,  "  if  Pan  Mashko 
does  not  hold  out,  Kremen  will  either  be  divided,  or  go 
into  usurers'  hands,  and  that  to  me  would  be  disagreeable." 

"Ah,  ha!"  said  Bukatski,  "but  if  you  do  not  think  at 
all  of  Kremen?" 

Marynia  looked  again  at  her  husband,  and  this  time 
with  alarm;   he  began  to  laugh,  however. 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  293 

"Marynia  is  caught,"  said  he. 

Then  he  turned  to  Bukatski.  "  Evidently  Mashko  looks 
on  thee  as  the  one  plank  of  salvation." 

"But  I  am  not  a  plank;  look  at  me!  I  am  a  straw, 
rather.  The  man  who  wishes  to  save  himself  by  such  a 
straw  will  drown.  Mashko  has  said  himself  more  than 
once  to  me,  *  Thou  hast  blunted  nerves.'  Perhaps  I  have; 
but  I  need  strong  impressions  for  that  very  reason.  If  I 
were  to  help  Mashko,  he  would  work  himself  free,  stand 
on  his  feet,  give  himself  out  as  a  lord  still  further;  his 
wife  would  personate  a  great  lady,  they  would  be  terribly 
covune  il  faut,  and  I  should  have  the  stupid  comedy, 
which  I  have  seen  already,  and  which  I  have  yawned  at. 
If,  on  the  other  hand,  I  do  not  help  him,  he  will  be 
ruined,  he  will  perish,  something  interesting  will  happen, 
unexpected  events  will  come  to  pass,  something  tragic  may 
result,  which  will  occupy  me  more.  Now,  think,  both  of 
you,  I  must  pay  for  a  wretched  comedy,  and  dearly;  the 
tragedy  I  can  have  for  nothing.  How  is  a  man  to  hesitate 
in  this  case?" 

"  Fi!  how  can  you  say  such  things?  "  exclaimed  Marynia. 

"Not  only  can  I  say  them,  but  I  shall  write  them  to 
Mashko;  besides,  he  has  deceived  me  in  the  most  unworthj 
manner." 

"In  what?" 

"In  what?  In  this,  that  I  thought:  *  Oh,  that  is  a 
regular  snob !  that  is  material  for  a  dark  personage ;  that 
is  a  man  really  without  heart  or  scruples  I'  Meanwhile, 
what  comes  out?  That  at  bottom  of  his  soul  he  has  a  certain 
honest}^;  that  he  wants  to  pay  his  creditors;  that  he  is 
sorry  for  that  puppet  with  red  eyes;  that  he  loves  her; 
that  for  him  separation  from  her  would  be  a  terrible  catas- 
trophe. He  writes  this  to  me  himself  most  shamelessly. 
I  give  my  word  that  in  our  society  one  can  count  on  noth- 
ing.    I  will  settle  abroad,  for  I  cannot  endure  this." 

Now  Marynia  was  angry  in  earnest. 

"  If  you  say  such  things,  I  shall  beg  to  break  relations 
with  you." 

But  Pan  Stanislav  shrugged  his  shoulders,  and  added: 
"  In  fact,  thy  talk  is  ever  on  some  conceit  to  amuse  thyself 
and  others,  and  never  wilt  thou  think  with  judgment  and 
in  human  fashion.  Dost  understand,  I  do  not  persuade 
thee  to  buy  Kremen,  and  all  the  more  because  I  miglit 
have  a  certain  interest  to  do  so;  but  there  would  be  some 
occupation  for  thee  there,  something  to  do." 


294  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

Here  Bukatski  began  to  laugh,  and  said  after  a  while, — 
"I  told  thee  once  that  I  like,  above  all,  to  do  what 
pleases  me,  and  that  it  pleases  me  most  to  do  nothing; 
hence  it  is  that  doing  nothing  I  do  what  pleases  me  most. 
If  thou  art  wise,  prove  that  I  have  uttered  nonsense. 
Take  the  second  case:  Suppose  me  a  buckwheat  sower; 
that,  however,  simply  passes  imagination.  I,  for  whom 
rain  or  fine  weather  is  merely  the  question  of  choosing  a 
cane  or  an  umbrella,  would  have,  in  my  old  age,  to  stand 
on  one  leg,  like  a  stork,  and  look  to  see  whether  it  pleases 
the  sun  to  shine,  or  the  clouds  to  drop  rain.  I  should 
have  to  tremble  as  to  whether  my  wheat  is  likely  to  grow, 
or  my  rape-seed  shed,  or  rot  fall  on  the  potatoes;  whether 
I  shall  be  able  to  stake  mj"^  peas,  or  furnish  his  Worship 
of  Dogweevil  as  many  bushels  as  I  have  promised;  whether 
my  plough-horses  have  the  glanders,  and  my  sheep  the  foot- 
rot.  I  should,  in  my  old  age,  come  to  this,  —  that  from 
blunting  of  faculties  I  would  interject  after  every  three 
words:  '  Pan  Benefactor,'  or  '  What  is  it  that  I  wanted  to 
say? '  Voyons!  pas  si  hefe!  I,  a  free  man,  should  become 
a  glebce  adscrijHus,  a  *  Neighbor,'  a  *  Brother  Lata,'  a  '  Pan 
Matsyei,' a  '  Lechit.'"* 

Here,  roused  a  little  by  the  wine,  he  began  to  quote  in 
an  undertone  the  words  of  Slaz  in  "Lilla  Weneda  ":  — 

"  Am  I  a  Lechit  ?     What  does  this  mean  ?    Are  hoorishness. 
Drunkenness,  gluttony,  gazing  from  my  eyes 
With  the  seven  deadly  sins,  a  pa^ssion  for  uproar, 
Pickled  cucumbers,  and  escutcheons  ?  " 

"Argue  with  him,"  said  Pan  Stanislav,  "especially  when 
at  the  root  of  the  matter  he  is  partly  right." 

But  Marynia,  who  as  soon  as  Bukatski  had  begun  to 
speak  of  work  in  the  country,  grew  somewhat  thoughtful, 
shook  thoughtfulness  now  from  her  forehead,  and  said, — 

"When  papa  was  not  well,  — and  never  in  Kremen  has 
he  been  so  well  as  recently,  —  I  saved  him  a  little  in 
management,  and  later  that  work  became  for  me  a  habit. 
Though  God  knows  there  was  no  lack  of  troubles,  it  gave 
me  a  pleasure  that  I  cannot  describe.  But  I  did  not 
understand  the  cause  of  this  till  Pan  Yamish  explained  it. 
'That,'  said  he,  *  is  the  real  work  on  which  the  world 
stands,  and  every  other  is  either  the  continuation  of  it, 
or  something  artificial.'     Later  I  understood  even  things 

1  Polish  noble. 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  296 

whicli  he  did  not  explain.  '  More  than  once,  when  I  went 
out  to  the  fields  in  spring,  and  saw  that  all  things  were 
growing,  I  felt  that  my  heart,  too,  was  growing  with  them. 
And  now  I  know  why  that  is  :  In  all  other  relations  that  a 
man  holds  there  may  be  deceit,  but  the  land  is  truth.  It 
is  impossible  to  deceive  the  land ;  it  either  gives,  or  gives 
not,  but  it  does  not  deceive.  Therefore  land  is  loved,  as 
truth ;  and  because  one  loves  it,  it  teaches  one  to  love. 
And  the  dew  falls  not  only  on  grain,  and  on  meadows,  but 
on  the  soul,  as  it  were  ;  and  a  man  becomes  better,  for  he 
has  to  deal  with  truth,  and  he  loves,  —  that  is,  he  is  nearer 
God.     Therefore  I  loved  my  Kremen  so  much." 

Here  jNIarynia  became  frightened  at  her  own  speech, 
and  at  this,  what  would  "  Stas  "  think ;  at  the  same  time 
reminiscences  had  roused  her.  All  this  was  reflected  in  her 
eyes  as  the  dawn,  and  on  her  young  face ;  and  she  was 
herself  like  the  dawn. 

Bukatski  looked  at  her  as  he  would  at  some  unknown 
newly  discovered  master-piece  of  the  Venetian  school ;  then 
he  closed  his  eyes,  and  hid  half  of  his  small  face  in  his 
enormous  fantastic  cravat,  and  whispered,  — 

"  Delicieuse  /  " 

Then,  thrusting  forth  his  chin  from  his  cravat,  he 
said ,  — 

"You  are  perfectly  right." 

But  the  logical  woman  would  not  let  herself  be  set  aside 
by  a  compliment, 

"If  I  am  right,  j'ou  are  not." 

"That  is  another  matter.  You  are  right  because  it 
becomes  you;   a  woman  in  that  case  is  always  right." 

"Stas!"  said  Marynia,  turning  to  her  husband.  But 
there  was  so  much  charm  in  the  woman  at  that  moment, 
that  he  also  looked  on  her  with  delight,  his  eyes  smiled, 
his  nostrils  moved  with  a  quick  motion;  for  a  moment  he 
covered  her  hand  with  his,  and  said, — 

"Oh,  child,  child!" 

Then  he  inclined  to  her,  and  whispered,  — 

"If  we  were  not  in  this  hall,  I  would  kiss  those  dear 
eyes  and  that  mouth." 

And,  speaking  thus,  Pan  Stanislav  made  a  great  mistake, 
for  at  that  moment  it  was  not  enough  to  feel  the  physical 
charm  of  Marynia,  to  be  roused  at  the  color  of  her  face, 
her  eyes,  or  her  mouth,  but  it  was  necessary  to  feel  the 
soul  in  her;  to  what  an  extent  he  did  not  feel  it  was  shown 


296  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SQIL. 

by  his  fondling  words,  "0  child,  child!"  She  was  for 
him  at  that  moment  only  a  charming  child-woman,  and 
he  thought  of  nothing  else. 

Just  then  coffee  was  brought.  To  end  the  conversation, 
Pan  Stanislav  said, — 

"So  Mashko  has  come  out  a  lover,  and  that  after 
marriage." 

Bukatski  swallowed  a  cup  of  boiling  coffee,  and  answered, 
"In  this  is  the  stupidity,  that  Mashko  is  the  man,  not  in 
this,  —  tliat  the  love  was  after  marriage.  I  have  not  said 
anything  sensible.  If  I  have,  I  beg  pardon  most  earnestly, 
and  promise  not  to  do  so  a  second  time.  I  have  burned  my 
tongue  evidently  with  the  hot  coffee!  I  drink  it  so  hot 
because  they  tell  me  that  it  is  good  for  headache ;  and  my 
head  aches,  aches." 

Here  Bukatski  placed  his  palm  on  his  neck  and  the  back 
of  his  head,  and  blinked,  remaining  motionless  for  a  few 
seconds. 

"I  am  talking  and  talking,"  said  he,  then,  "but  my  head 
aches.  I  should  have  gone  to  my  lodgings,  but  Svirski, 
the  artist,  is  to  come  to  me  here.  We  are  going  to  Florence 
together;  he  is  a  famous  painter  in  water-colors,  really 
famous.  No  one  has  brought  greater  force  out  of  water 
colors.     But  see,  he  is  just  coming!  " 

In  fact,  Svirski,  as  if  summoned  by  a  spell,  appeared  m 
the  hall,  and  began  to  look  around  for  Bukatski.  Espying 
him  at  last,  he  approached  the  table. 

He  was  a  robust,  short  man,  with  hair  as  black  as  if  he 
were  an  Italian.  He  had  an  ordinary  face,  but  a  wise, 
deep  glance,  and  also  mild.  While  walking,  he  swayed  a 
little  because  of  his  wide  hips. 

Bukatski  presented  him  to  Marynia  in  the  following 
words ,  — 

"I  present  to  you  Pan  Svirski,  a  painter,  of  the  genus 
genius,  who  not  only  received  his  talent,  but  had  the  most 
happy  idea  of  not  burying  it,  which  he  might  have  done 
as  well,  and  with  equal  benefit  to  mankind,  as  any  other 
man.  But  he  preferred  to  fill  the  world  with  water-colors 
and  with  fame." 

Svirski  smiled,  showing  two  rows  of  teeth,  wonderfully 
small,  but  white  as  ivory,  and  said, — 

"I  wish  that  were  true." 

"And  I  will  tell  you  why  he  did  not  bury  his  talent," 
continued  Bukatski;  "his  reasons  were  so  parochial  that 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  297 

it  would  be  a  shame  for  any  decent  artist  to  avow  them. 
He  loves  Pognembin,  which  is  somewhere  in  Poznan,  or 
thereabouts,  and  he  loves  it  because  he  was  born  there. 
If  he  had  been  born  in  Guadeloupe  he  would  have  loved 
Guadeloupe,  and  love  for  Guadeloupe  would  have  saved 
him  in  life  also.  This  man  makes  me  indignant;  and 
will  the  lady  tell  me  if  I  am  not  right?" 

To  this  Marynia  answered,  raising  her  blue  eyes  to 
Svirski,  "Pan  Bukatski  is  not  so  bad  as  he  seems,  for  he 
has  said  everything  that  is  good  of  you." 

"I  shall  die  with  my  qualities  known,"  whispered 
Bukatski. 

Svirski  was  looking  meanwhile  at  Marynia,  as  only  an 
artist  can  permit  himself  to  look  at  a  woman,  and  not 
offend.  Interest  was  evident  in  his  eyes,  and  at  last  he 
muttered,  — 

"To  see  such  a  head  all  at  once,  here  in  Venice,  is  a 
genuine  surprise." 

"What?"  asked  Bukatski. 

"I  say,  that  the  lady  is  of  a  wonderfully  well-defined 
type.  Oh,  this,  for  exa.mple  "  (here  he  drew  a  line  with  his 
thumb  along  his  nose,  mouth,  and  chin).  "And  also  what 
purity  of  outline  !  " 

"Well,  isn't  it  true?"  asked  Pan  Stanislav,  with  excite- 
ment.    "I  have  always  thought  the  same." 

"I  will  lay  a  wager  that  thou  hast  never  thought  of  it," 
retorted  Bukatski. 

But  Pan  Stanislav  was  glad  and  proud  of  that  interest 
which  Marynia  roused  in  the  famous  artist;  hence  he 
said,  — 

"If  it  would  give  you  any  pleasure  to  paint  her  portrait, 
it  would  give  me  much  more  to  have  it." 

"From  the  soul  of  my  heart,"  answered  Svirski,  with 
simplicity;  "but  I  am  going  to  Eome  to-day.  There  I 
have  begun  the  portrait  of  Pani  Osnovski." 

"And  we  shall  be  in  Eome  no  later  than  ten  days  from 
now." 

"Then  we  are  agreed." 

]V[arynia  returned  thanks,  blushing  to  her  ears.  But 
Bukatski  began  to  take  farewell,  and  drew  Svirski  after 
him.     When  they  had  gone  out,  he  said,  — 

"We  have  time  yet.  Come  to  Floriani's  for  a  glass  of 
cognac."  , 

Bukatski  did  noc  know  how  to  drink,  and  did  n  t  like 


298  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

spirits;  but  since  he  had  begun  to  take  morphine,  he  drank 
more  than  he  could  endure,  because  some  one  had  told  him 
that  one  neutralized  the  other. 

"  What  a  delightful  couple  those  Polanyetskis  are ! "  said 
Svirski. 

"They  are  not  long  married." 

"It  is  evident  that  he  loves  her  immensely.  When  I 
praised  her,  his  eyes  were  smiling,  and  he  rose  as  if  on 
yeast." 

"She  loves  him  a  hundred  times  more." 

"What  knowledge  hast  thou  in  such  matters?" 

Bukatski  did  not  answer;  he  only  raised  his  pointed 
nose,  and  said,  as  if  to  himself,  — 

"Oh,  marriage  and  love  have  disgusted  me;  for  it  is 
always  profit  on  one  side,  and  sacrifice  on  the  other. 
Polanyetski  is  a  good  man,  but  ^hat  of  that?  She  has 
just  as  much  sense,  just  as  much  character,  but  she  loves 
more;  therefore  life  will  fijc  itself  for  them  in  this  way, — 
he  will  be  the  sun,  he  will  be  gracious  enough  to  shine,  to 
warm,  will  consider  her  as  his  property,  as  a  planet  made 
to  circle  around  him.  All  this  is  indicated  to-day.  She 
has  entered  his  sphere.  There  is  in  him  a  certain  self- 
confidence  which  angers  me.  He  will  have  her  with  an 
income,  but  she  will  have  him  alone  without  an  income. 
He  will  permit  himself  to  love,  considering  his  love  as 
virtue,  kindness,  and  favor;  she  will  love,  considering  her 
love  as  a  happiness  and  a  duty.  Look,  if  you  please,  at 
him,  the  divine,  the  resplendent!  I  want  to  go  back  and 
tell  them  this,  in  the  hope  that  they  will  be  less  happy." 

Meanwhile  the  two  men  had  taken  seats  in  front  of 
Floriani's,  and  soon  cognac  was  brought  to  them.  Svirski 
thought  some  time  over  the  Polanyetskis,  and  then 
inquired,  — 

"But  if  the  position  is  pleasant  for  her?" 

"I  know  that  she  has  short  sight;  she  might  be  pleased 
quite  as  well  to  wear  glasses." 

"Go  to  the  deuce!  glasses  on  a  face  like  hers  —  " 

"This  makes  thee  indignant;  but  the  other  makes  me  —  " 

"Yes,  for  thou  hast  a  kind  of  coffee-mill  in  thy  head, 
which  grinds,  and  grinds  everything  till  it  grinds  it  into 
fine  dust.     What  dost  thou  want  of  love  in  general  ?  " 

"I,  of  love?  I  want  nothing  of  love!  Let  the  devil 
take  him  who  wants  anything  of  love !  I  have  sharp  pains 
in  my  shoulder-blades  from  it.     But  if  I  were  other  than 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  299 

I  am,  if  I  had  to  describe  wliat  love  ought  to  be,  if  I 
wanted  anything  of  it,  then  I  should  wish  — " 

"What?  hop!  jump  over!" 

"That  it  were  composed  in  equal  parts  of  desire  and 
reverence." 

Then  he  drank  a  glass  of  cognac,  and  added  after  a 
while,  — 

"  It  seems  to  me  that  I  have  said  something  which  may 
be  wise,  if  it  is  not  foolish.     But  it  is  all  one  to  me." 

"No!  it  is  not  foolish." 

"As  God  lives,  it  is  all  one  to  me." 


300  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

After  a  stay  of  oue  week  in  Florence,  Pan  Stanislav  re- 
ceived his  first  letter  from  Bigiel  concerning  the  business 
of  the  house,  and  news  so  favorable  that  it  almost  sur- 
passed his  expectations.  The  law  prohibiting  export  of 
grain  because  of  the  famine  was  proclaimed.  But  the  firm 
had  enormous  supplies  bought  and  exported  previously; 
and  because  prices,  especially  at  the  first  moment,  had 
risen  excessively  abroad,  Bigiel  and  Polanyetski  began  to 
do  perfect  business.  Speculation,  planned  and  carried 
through  on  a  great  scale,  turned  out  so  profitable  that 
from  well-to-do  people,  which  they  were  before,  they  had 
become  almost  rich.  For  that  matter  Pan  Stanislav  had 
been  sure  of  his  business  from  the  beginning,  and  enter- 
tained no  fears;  the  news,  however,  pleased  him  both  with 
reference  to  profit  and  his  own  self-love.  Success  intoxi- 
cates a  man  and  strengthens  his  self-confidence.  So,  in 
talking  with  Marynia,  he  was  not  able  to  refrain  from 
giving  her  to  understand  that  he  had  an  uncommon  liead, 
unquestionably  higher  than  all  those  around  him,  like  a 
tree  the  loftiest  in  the  forest;  that  he  is  a  man  who  always 
reaches  the  place  at  which  he  has  aimed,  —  in  a  word,  a 
kind  of  phcenix  in  that  society,  abounding  in  men  who 
know  not  how  to  help  themselves.  In  the  whole  world 
he  could  not  have  found  a  listener  more  willing  and  ready 
to  accept  everything  with  the  deepest  faith. 

"Thou  art  a  woman,"  said  he,  not  without  a  shade  of 
loftiness;  "therefore  why  tell  thee  the  affair  from  the 
beginning,  and  enter  into  details.  To  thee,  as  a  woman,  I 
can  explain  all  best  if  I  say  thus :  I  was  not  in  a  condi- 
tion yesterday  to  buy  the  medallion  with  a  black  pearl 
which  I  showed  thee  at  Godoni's;  to-day  I  am,  and  will 
buy  it." 

Marynia  thanked  him,  and  begged  that  he  would  not 
do  so;  but  he  insisted,  and  said  that  nothing  would  re- 
strain him,  that  that  was  resolved  on,  and  Marynia  must 
consider  herself  the  owner  of  the  great  black  pearl,  which, 
on  such  a  white  neck  as  hers,  would  be  beautiful.  Then 
he  fell  to  kissing  that  neck ;  and  when  finally  he  had  satis- 


CHILDKEN  OF  THE  SOIL.  301 

fied  himself,  but  still  felt  the  need  of  a  listener  of  some 
sort,  he  began  to  walk  in  the  room,  smiling  at  his  wife 
and  at  his  own  thoughts,  saying,  — 

"I  do  not  mention  those  wlio  do  nothing:  Bukatski, 
for  instance,  who  is  known  to  be  good  for  nothing,  nor 
asses  like  Kopovski,  who  is  known  to  have  a  cat's  head; 
but  take  even  men  who  do  something,  —  men  of  mind 
seemingly.  Never  would  Bigiel  seize  a  chance  on  the 
Aving:  he  would  set  to  thinking  over  it,  and  to  putting 
it  off;  to-day  he  would  decide,  and  to-morrow  be  afraid, 
and  the  time  would  be  gone.  What  is  the  point  in  ques- 
tion? First,  to  have  a  head,  and  second,  to  sit  down  and 
calculate.  And  if  one  decides  to  act,  then  act.  It  is 
needful,  too,  to  be  cool,  and  not  pose.  Mashko  is  no  fool, 
one  might  think;  but  see  what  he  has  worked  out!  I  have 
not  gone  his  way,  and  shall  not  follow  him." 

Thus  speaking,  he  continued  to  walk  and  to  shake  his 
thick,  dark  hair;  and  Marynia,  who,  in  every  case,  would 
have  listened  to  his  words  with  faith,  received  them  now 
as  an  infallible  principle,  all  the  more  that  they  rested  on 
tangible  success. 

He  stopped  before  her  at  last,  and  said,  — 

"Knowest  what  I  think?  that  coolness  is  judgment.  It 
is  possible  to  have  an  intelligent  head,  to  take  in  knowl- 
edge as  a  sponge  absorbs  liquid,  and  still  not  to  have 
sound,  sober  judgment.  Bukatski  is  for  me  a  proof  of 
this.  Do  not  think  me  vain;  but  if  I,  for  instance,  knew 
as  much  about  art  as  he  does,  I  should  have  a  sounder 
judgment  concerning  it.  He  has  read  so  much,  and  caught 
up  so  many  opinions,  that  at  last  he  has  none  of  his  own. 
Surely,  from  the  materials  which  he  has  collected,  I  should 
have  squeezed  out  something  of  my  own." 

"Oh,  that  is  sure,"  said  Marynia,  with  perfect  con- 
fidence. 

Pan  Stanislav  might  have  been  right  in  a  certain  view. 
He  was  not  a  dull  man  by  any  means,  and  it  may  be 
that  his  intelligence  Avas  firmer  and  more  compact  than 
Bukatski's;  but  it  was  less  flexible  and  less  comprehen- 
sive. This  did  not  occur  to  him.  He  did  not  think,  also, 
that  in  that  moment,  under  the  influence  of  bonstfulness, 
he  was  saying  things  before  Marynia  which  the  fear  of 
ridicule  and  criticism  would  have  restrained  him  from  say- 
ing before  strangers,  sceptical  persons.  But  he  did  not 
restrain  himself  before  Marynia;  he  judged  that  if  he  could 


302  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

permit  himself  such  little  boastfuluess  before  any  one,  it 
was  before  his  wife.  Besides,  as  he  himself  said,  '"He 
had  taken  her,  and  all  was  over."  Moreover,  she  was  his 
own. 

In  general,  he  had  not  felt  so  happy  and  satisfied  at  any 
time  in  life  as  then.  He  had  experienced  material  success, 
and  considered  the  future  as  guai'anteed;  he  had  married 
a  woman,  young,  charming,  and  clever,  for  whom  he  had 
become  a  dogma,  —  and  the  position  could  not  be  otherwise, 
since  her  lips  were  not  dry  for  whole  days  from  his  kisses, 
—  and  whose  healthy  and  honest  heart  was  filled  with  grati- 
tude for  his  love.  What  could  be  lacking  to  him?  What 
more  could  he  wish?  He  was  satisfied  with  himself,  for 
he  ascribed  in  great  part  to  his  own  cleverness  and  merit, 
his  success  in  so  arranging  life  that  everything  promised 
peace  and  prosperity.  He  saw  that  life  was  bitter  for 
other  men,  but  pleasant  for  him,  and  he  interpreted  the 
difference  to  his  own  advantage.  He  had  thought  once 
that  a  man  wishing  peace  had  to  regulate  his  connection 
with  himself,  with  mankind,  with  God.  The  first  two  he 
looked  on  as  regulated.  He  had  a  wife,  a  calling,  and  a 
future;  hence  he  had  given  and  secured  to  himself  all  that 
he  could  give  and  secure.  As  to  society,  he  permitted 
himself  sometimes  to  criticise  it,  but  he  felt  that  in  the 
bottom  of  his  soul  he  loved  it  really;  that  even  if  he 
wished,  he  could  not  do  otherwise;  that  if  in  a  given  case 
it  were  necessary  to  go  into  water  or  fire  for  society,  he 
would  go,  — hence  he  considered  everything  settled  on  that 
side  too.  His  relation  with  God  remained.  He  felt  that 
should  that  become  clear  and  certain,  he  might  consider 
all  life's  problems  settled,  and  say  to  himself  definitely, 
"I  know  why  I  have  lived,  what  I  wanted,  and  w^hy  I  must 
die."  While  not  a  man  of  science,  he  had  touched  enough 
on  science  to  know  the  vanity  of  seeking  in  philosophy 
so-called  explanations  or  answers  which  are  to  be  sought 
rather  in  intuition,  and,  above  all,  in  feeling,  in  so  far  as 
the  one  and  the  other  of  these  are  simple,  —  otherwise  they 
lead  to  extravagance.  At  the  same  time,  since  he  was  not 
devoid  of  imagination,  he  saw  before  him,  as  it  were,  the 
image  of  an  honest,  well-balanced  man,  a  good  husband,  a 
good  father,  who  labors  and  prays,  who  on  Sunday  takes 
liis  children  to  church,  and  lives  a  life  wonderfully  whole- 
some from  a  moral  point  of  view.  That  picture  smiled  at 
him;    and   in   life   so   much   is   done   for  pictures.      He 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  303 

thought  that  a  society  which  had  a  great  number  of  such 
citizens  would  be  stronger  and  healthier  than  a  society 
which  below  was  composed  of  boors,  and  above  of  sages 
dilettanti,  decadents,  and  all  those  forbidden  figures  with 
sprained  intellects.  One  time,  soon  after  his  acquaint- 
ance with  Marynia,  he  had  promised  himself  and  Bigiel 
that  on  finishing  with  his  own  person ,  and  with  people,  he 
would  set  about  this  third  relation  seriously.  Now 'the 
time  had  come,  or  at  least  was  approaching.  Pan  Stanislav 
understood  that  this  work  needed  more  repose  than  is 
found  on  a  bridal  trip,  and  among  the  impressions  of  a 
new  life  and  a  new  country,  and  that  hurry  of  hotels  and 
galleries  in  which  he  lived  with  Marynia.  But,  in  spite 
of  these  conditions,  in  the  rare  moments  when  he  was  with 
his  own  thoughts,  he  turned  at  once  to  that  problem,  which 
for  him  was  at  that  time  the  main  one.  He  was  subject 
meanwhile  to  various  influences,  which,  small  in  themselves, 
exercised  a  certain  action,  even  because  he  refrained  pur- 
posely from  opposing  them.  Of  these  was  the  influence 
of  Marynia.  Pan  Stanislav  was  not  conscious  of  it,  and 
would  not  have  owned  to  its  existence;  still  the  continual 
presence  of  that  calm  soul,  sincerely  and  simply  pious, 
extremely  conscientious  in  relation  to  God,  gave  him  an 
idea  of  the  rest  and  peace  to  be  found  in  religion.  When 
he  attended  his  wife  to  church,  he  remembered  the  words 
which  she  said  to  him  in  Warsaw,  "Of  course;  it  is  the 
service  of  God."  And  he  was  drawn  into  it,  for  at  first  he 
went  to  church  with  her  always  not  to  let  her  go  alone, 
and  later  because  it  gave  him  also  a  certain  internal 
pleasure,  —  such,  for  example,  as  the  examination  of  phe- 
nomena gives  a  scientist  specially  interested  in  them.  In 
this  way,  in  spite  of  unfavorable  conditions,  in  spite  of 
journeys,  and  a  line  of  thought  interrupted  by  impressions 
of  every  sort,  he  advanced  on  the  new  road  continually. 
His  thoughts  had  at  times  great  energy  and  decisiveness  in 
this  direction.  "I  feel  God,"  said  he  to  himself.  "I  felt 
Him  at  Litka's  grave;  I  felt  Him,  though  I  did  not 
acknowledge  it,  in  the  words  of  Vaskovski  about  death;  I 
felt  Him  at  marriage;  I  felt  Him  at  home,  in  the  plains, 
and  in  this  countrv,  in  the  mountains  above  the  snow;  and 
I  only  ask  yet  how  I  am  to  glorify  Him,  to  honor  and  love 
Him?  Is  it  as  pleases  me  personally,  or  as  my  wife  does, 
and  as  mv  mother  taught  me?  " 

In  Rome,  however,  he  ceased  at  first  to  think  of  these 


304  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

things;  so  many  external  impressions  were  gathered  at 
once  in  his  mind  that  there  was  no  room  for  reflection. 
Moreover,  he  and  Marynia  came  home  in  the  evening  so 
tired  that  he  remembered  almost  with  terror  the  words  of 
Bukatski,  who,  at  times,  when  serving  them  as  cicerone 
for  his  own  satisfaction,  said,  "Ye  have  not  seen  the  thou- 
sandth part  of  what  is  worth  seeing ;  but  that  is  all  one, 
for  in  general  it  is  not  worth  while  to  come  here,  just  as 
it  is  not  worth  while  to  stay  at  home." 

Bukatksi  was  then  in  a  lit  of  contradiction,  overturning 
in  one  statement  what  he  had  seemed  to  affirm  in  the  pre- 
ceding one. 

Professor  Vaskovski  came,  too,  from  Perugia  to  greet 
them,  which  pleased  Marynia  so  much  that  she  met  him 
as  she  would  her  nearest  relative.  But,  after  satisfying 
her  first  outbursts  of  delight,  she  observed  in  the  professor's 
eyes,  as  it  were,  a  kind  of  melancholy. 

"What  is  the  matter?"  inquired  she.  "Do  you  not  feel 
well  in  Italy?" 

"My  child,"  answered  he,  "it  is  pleasant  in  Perugia, 
and  pleasant  in  Home  —  oh,  how  pleasant!  Know  this, 
that  here,  while  walking  on  the  streets,  one  is  treading 
on  the  dust  of  the  world.  This,  as  I  repeat  always,  is  the 
antechamber  to  another  life  —  but  —  " 

"  But  what  ?  " 

"  But  people  —  you  see,  that  is,  not  from  a  bad  heart,  for 
here,  as  well  as  everywhere,  there  are  more  good  than  bad 
people ;  but  sometimes  I  am  sad,  for  here,  as  well  as  at 
home,  they  look  on  me  as  a  little  mad." 

Bukatski,  who  was  listening  to  the  conversation,  said,  — 

"  Then  the  professor  has  more  cause  for  sadness  here  than 
at  home." 

"Yes,"  answered  Vaskovski;  "I  have  so  many  friends 
there,  like  you,  who  love  me  —  but  here,  no  —  and  therefore 
I  am  homesick." 

Then  he  turned  to  Pan  Stanislav:  "The  journals  here 
have  printed  an  account  of  my  essay.  Some  scoff  altogether. 
God  be  with  them!  Some  agree  that  a  new  epoch  would, 
begin  through  the  introduction  of  Christ  and  His  spirit  into 
history.  One  writer  confessed  that  individuals  treat  one 
another  in  a  Christian  spirit,  but  that  nations  lead  a  pagan 
life  yet.  He  even  called  the  thought  a  great  one ;  but  he  and 
all  others,  when  I  affirm  this  to  be  a  mission  which  God  has 
predestined  to  us,  and  other  youngest  of  the  Aryans,  seize 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  305 

their  sides  from  laughter.  And  this  pains  nie.  They  give 
it  to  be  understood  also  that  I  have  a  little  here  — " 

And  poor  Vaskovski  tapped  his  forehead  with  his  finger. 
After  a  while,  however,  he  raised  his  head  and  said,  — 

"A  man  sows  the  seed  in  sadness  and  often  in  doubt;  but 
the  seed  falls  on  the  field,  and  God  grant  that  it  spring  up ! " 

Then  he  began  to  inquire  about  Pani  Emilia ;  at  last  he 
turned  to  them  his  eyes,  which  were  as  if  wakened  from 
sleep,  and  asked  naively,  — 

"  But  it  is  pleasant  for  you  to  be  with  each  other  ?  " 

Marynia,  instead  of  answering,  sprang  to  her  husband, 
and,  nestling  her  head  up  to  his  shoulder,  said,  — 

"  Oh,  see.  Professor,  this  is  how  we  are  together,  —  so ! " 

And  Pan  Stanislav  stroked  her  dark  head  with  his  hand 


306  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 


CHAPTER  XXXni. 

A  WEEK  later  Pan  Stanislav  took  his  wife  to  Svirski's  on 
Via  jMargutta.  Svirski  they  saw  almost  daily.  They  liad 
grown  accustomed  to  the  artist  and  liked  him  ;  now  he  was 
to  paint  Marynia's  portrait.  At  the  studio  they  found  the 
Osnovskis,  with  whom  acquaintance  was  made  the  more 
easily  since  the  ladies  had  met  some  years  before  at  a  party, 
and  Pan  Stanislav  had  been  presented  on  a  time  to  Pani 
Osnovski,  at  Ostend;  he  needed  merely  to  remember  her 
now.  Pan  Stanislav,  it  is  true,  did  not  recollect  whether  at 
that  epoch,  when,  after  looking  at  every  joung  and  ja-esent- 
able  woman,  he  asked  himself,  "Is  it  this  one?"  he  had 
asked  this  touching  the  present  Pani  Osnovski ;  he  might 
have  done  so,  however,  for  she  had  the  reputation  then  of 
being  a  comely,  though  rather  flighty  young  person.  Now 
she  was  a  woman  of  six  or  seven  and  twenty,  very  tall,  a 
fresh,  though  dark  brunette,  with  cherry  lips,  dishevelled 
forelock,  and  somewhat  oblique  violet  eyes,  which  gave  her 
face  a  resemblance  to  Chinese  faces,  and  at  the  same  time  a 
certain  expression  of  malice  and  wit.  She  had  a  strange 
way  of  bearing  herself,  which  consisted  in  thrusting  back 
her  shoulders  and  pushing  forward  her  body ;  in  consequence 
of  this,  Bukatski  said  of  her  that  she  carried  her  bust  en 
offrande. 

Almost  immediately  she  told  Marynia  that,  as  they  were 
sitting  in  the  same  studio,  they  ought  to  consider  each  other 
as  colleagues;  and  told  Pan  Stanislav  that  she  remembered 
hira,  from  the  ball  at  Ostend,  as  a  good  dancer  and  causeur, 
and  therefore  that  she  would  not  delay  in  taking  advantage 
of  that  knowledge  now.  To  both  she  said  that  it  was  very 
agreeable  to  her,  that  she  was  delighted  with  Rome,  that  she 
was  reading  "  Cosmopolis,"  that  she  was  in  love  with  the 
Villa  Doria,  with  the  view  from  the  Pincian,  that  she  hoped 
to  see  the  catacombs  in  company  with  them,  and  that  she 
knew  the  works  of  Rossi,  in  Allard's  translations.  .  Then, 
pressing  Svirski's  hand,  and  smiling  coquettishly  at  Pan 
Stanislav,  she  went  out,  declaring  that  she  gave  way  to  one 
worthier  than  herself,  and  left  the  impression  of  a  whirl- 
wind, a  Chinese  woman,  and  a  flower.    Pan  Osnovski,  a  very 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  307 

youug  man,  with  a  light  blond  face  without  significance,  but 
kindly,  followed  her,  and  hardly  had  he  been  able  to  put  in 
a  word. 

Svirski  drew  a  deep  breath. 

"  Oh,  she  is  a  storm  !  "  said  he ;  "  I  have  a  thousand  dif- 
ficulties in  keeping  her  at  rest  two  minutes." 

"  But  what  an  interesting  face  !  "  said  Marynia.  "  Is  it 
permitted  to  look  at  the  portrait  ?  " 

"  It  lacks  little  of  being  finished ;  you  may  look  at  it." 

Marynia  and  Pan  Stanislav  approached  the  portrait,  and 
could  express  admiration  without  excess  of  politeness.  That 
head,  painted  in  water-colors,  had  the  strength  and  warmth 
of  an  oil  painting,  and  at  the  same  time  the  whole  spiritual 
essence  of  Pani  Osnovski  was  in  it.  Svirski  listened  to  the 
praises  calmly;  it  was  clear  that  he  was  pleased  with  his 
work.  He  covered  the  picture,  and  carried  it  to  a  dark 
corner  of  the  studio,  seated  Marynia  in  an  armchair  already 
in  position,  and  began  to  study  her. 

His  persistent  gaze  confused  her  somewhat, —  her  cheeks 
began  to  flush ;  but  he  smiled  with  pleasure,  muttering,  — 

"  Yes ;  this  is  another  type,  —  earth  and  heaven ! " 

At  moments  he  closed  one  eye,  which  confused  Marynia 
still  more ;  at  moments  he  approached  the  cardboard,  and 
again  drew  back,  and  again  studied  her;  and  again  he  said, 
as  if  to  himself,  — 

"In  the  other  case,  one  had  to  bring  out  the  devil,  but 
here  womanliness." 

"As  you  have  seen  that  immediately,  I  feel  sure  of  a 
masterpiece,"  said  Pan  Stanislav. 

All  at  once  Svirski  stopped  looking  at  the  paper  and  at 
Marynia,  and,  turning  to  Pan  Stanislav,  smiled  joyously, 
showing  his  sound  teeth. 

"  Yes,  womanliness  !  and  her  own  womanliness,  that  is 
the  main  chara(!teristic  of  tlie  face." 

"And  seize  it,  as  you  seized  the  devil  in  the  other  one." 

"Stas  !"  exclaimed  j\[arynia. 

"  It  is  not  I  who  invented  that,  but  Pan  Svirski." 

"If  you  wish,  we  will  say  imp,  not  devil, —  a  comely  imp, 
but  a  dangerous  one.  Wliile  painting,  I  observe  various 
things.     Tliat  is  a  curious  type,  —  Pani  Osnovski." 

"Why?" 

"Have  you  observed  her  husband?" 

"Somehow  I  was  so  occupied  with  her  that  I  had  no 
time." 


308  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

"  There  it  is :  she  hides  him  in  such  a  degree  that  he  is 
hardly  visible;  and,  what  is  worse,  she  herself  does  not  see 
him.  At  the  same  time  he  is  one  of  the  most  worthy  men 
in  the  world,  uncommonly  well-bred,  considerate  to  others 
in  an  unheard-of  degree,  very  rich,  and  not  at  all  stupid. 
Moreover,  he  loves  her  to  distraction." 

Here  Svirski  began  to  paint,  and  repeated,  as  if  in 
forgetfuluess,  — 

"  Lo-ves  her  to  dis-trac-tion.  Be  pleased  to  arrange  your 
hair  a  little  about  the  ear.  If  your  husband  is  a  talker,  he 
will  be  in  despair,  for  Bukatski  declares  that  when  I  begin 
work  my  lips  never  close,  and  that  I  let  no  one  have  a 
word.  She,  do  you  see,  may  be  thus  far  as  pure  as  a  tear, 
but  she  is  a  coquette.  She  has  an  icy  heart  with  a  fiery 
head.  A  dangerous  species, — oh,  dangerous!  She  devours 
books  by  whole  dozens, — naturally  French  books.  She 
learns  psychology  in  them,  learns  of  feminine  tempera- 
ments, of  the  enigma  of  woman,  seeks  enigmas  in  herself, 
which  do  not  exist  at  all  in  her,  discovers  aspirations  of 
which  yesterday  she  knew  nothing.  She  is  depraving  her- 
self mentally;  this  mental  depravation  she  considers  wis- 
dom, and  makes  no  account  of  her  husband." 

"But  you  are  a  terrible  man,"  remarked  Marynia. 

"My  wife  will  hide  to-morrow  from  fear,  when  the  hour 
for  sitting  comes,"  said  Pan  Stanislav. 

"  Let  her  not  hide ;  hers  is  a  different  type.  Osnovski 
is  not  at  all  dull;  but  people,  and  especially,  with  your 
permission,  women,  are  so  unwise,  that  if  a  man's  clever- 
ness does  not  hit  them  on  the  head,  if  a  man  lacks  confi- 
dence in  himself,  if  he  does  not  scratch  like  a  cat  and  cut 
like  a  knife,  they  do  not  value  him.  As  God  lives,  I  have 
seen  this  in  life  a  hundred  times." 

After  a  while  he  closed  one  eye  again,  gazed  at  Marynia, 
and  continued ,  — 

"  In  general ,  how  foolish  human  society  is !  More  than 
once  have  I  put  to  myself  this  question:  Why  is  honesty 
of  character,  heart,  and  such  a  thing  as  kindness,  less 
valued  than  what  is  called  mind?  Why,  in  social  life,  are 
two  categories  pre-eminent,  wise  and  foolish?  It  is  not 
the  custom,  for  example,  to  say,  virtuous  and  unvirtuous ; 
to  such  a  degree  is  it  not  the  custom,  that  the  very  ex- 
pressions would  seem  ridiculous." 

"Because,"  said  Pan  Stanislav,  "mind  is  the  lantern 
with  which  virtue  and  kindness  and  heart  must  liglit  the 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  809 

way  for  themselves,  otherwise  they  might  break  their  noses, 
or,  what  is  worse,  break  the  noses  of  other  people." 

Marynia  did  not  utter,  it  is  true,  a  single  word;  but  in 
her  face  it  was  possible  to  read  distinctly,  "  How  wise  this 
Stas  is  —  terribly  wise!  " 

"  Wise  Stas  "  added  meanwhile,  — 

"  I  am  not  speaking  of  Osnovski  now,  for  I  do  not  know 
him." 

"Osnovski,"  said  Svirski,  "loves  his  wife  as  his  wife, 
as  his  child,  and  as  his  happiness;  but  she  has  her  head 
turned,  God  knows  with  what,  and  does  not  repay  him  in 
kind.  Women  interest  me,  as  an  unmarried  man,  im- 
mensely; more  than  once  have  I  talked  whole  days  about 
women,  especially  with  Bukatski,  when  they  interested 
him  more  than  they  do  now.  Bukatski  divides  women 
into  plebeian  souls,  by  which  he  means  poor  and  low  spirits, 
and  into  patrician  souls,  —  that  is,  natures  ennobled,  full 
of  the  higher  aspirations,  and  resting  on  principles,  not 
phrases.  There  is  a  certain  justice  in  this,  but  I  prefer 
my  division,  which  is  simply  into  grateful  and  ungrateful 
hearts." 

Here  he  withdrew  from  the  sketch  for  a  moment,  half 
closed  his  eyes,  then,  taking  a  small  mirror,  placed  it 
toward  the  picture,  and  began  to  look  at  the  reflection. 

"You  ask  what  I  mean  by  grateful  and  ungrateful 
hearts,"  said  he,  turning  to  Marynia,  though  she  had  not 
asked  about  anything.  "A  grateful  heart  is  one  which 
feels  when  it  is  loved,  and  is  moved  by  love;  and  in  re- 
turn for  the  loving,  loves  more  and  more,  yields  itself  more 
and  more,  prizes  the  loving,  and  honors  it.  The  ungrate- 
ful heart  gets  all  it  can  from  the  love  given;  and  the  more 
certain  it  feels  of  this  love,  the  less  it  esteems  it,  the  more 
it  disregards  and  tramples  it.  It  is  enough  to  love  a 
woman  with  an  ungrateful  heart,  to  make  her  cease  loving. 
The  fisherman  is  not  concerned  for  the  fish  in  the  net; 
therefore  Pani  Osnovski  does  not  care  for  Pan  Osnovski. 
In  the  essence  of  the  argument  this  is  the  rudest  form  of 
egotism  in  existence,  —  it  is  simply  African;  and  therefore 
God  guard  Osnovski,  and  may  the  Evil  One  take  her,  witli 
her  Chinese  eyes  of  violet  color,  and  her  frizzled  forelock! 
To  paint  such  a  woman  is  pleasant,  but  to  marry  —  we  are 
not  such  fools.  Will  you  believe  it,  I  am  in  so  much  dread 
of  an  ungrateful  heart  that  I  have  not  marned^^so  far, 
though  my  fortieth  year  has  sounded  distinctly? 


310  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

"But  it  is  so  easy  to  recognize  such  a  heart,"  said 
Marynia. 

"  May  the  Evil  One  take  what  is  bad! "  answered  Svirski. 
"  Not  so  easy,  especially  when  a  man  has  lost  sense  and 
reason." 

Bending  his  athletic  form,  he  looked  at  the  sketch  some 
time,  and  said, — 

"Well,  enough  for  to-day.  As  it  is,  I  have  talked  so 
continuously  that  flies  must  have  dropped  from  the  walls. 
To-morrow,  if  you  hear  too  much,  just  clap  your  hands.  I 
do  not  talk  so  with  Pani  Osnovski,  because  she  herself 
likes  to  talk.  But  how  many  titles  of  books  have  I  heard? 
Enough  of  this!  I  wanted  to  say  something  more,  but 
have  forgotten.  Ah!  this  is  it, — you  have  a  grateful 
heart." 

Pan  Stanislav  laughed,  and  invited  Svirski  to  dinner, 
promising  him  the  society  of  Bukatski  and  Vaskovski. 

"With  great  delight,"  answered  Svirski;  "I  am  as  much 
alone  here  as  a  wild  beast.  As  the  weather  is  clear  and 
the  moon  full,  we  will  go  later  to  see  the  Colosseum  by 
moonlight." 

The  dinner  took  place,  however,  without  Bukatski's 
mental  hobbies,  for  he  felt  out  of  health,  and  wrote  that 
he  could  not  come.  But  Svirski  and  Vaskovski  suited 
each  other  excellently,  and  became  friends  right  away. 
Only  while  he  was  working  did  Svirski  let  no  one  have  a 
word;  in  general,  he  liked  to  hear  others,  knew  how  to 
listen,  and,  though  the  professor  and  his  views  seemed  to 
him  comical  sometimes,  so  much  sincerity  and  kindness 
was  evident  in  the  old  man  that  it  would  have  been  diffi- 
cult for  him  not  to  win  people.  His  mystic  faee  and  the 
expression  of  his  eyes  struck  the  artist.  He  sketched 
him  a  little  in  his  mind;  and,  while  listening  to  his  talk 
about  the  Aryans,  he  thought  how  that  head  would  look  if 
all  that  was  in  it  were  brought  out  distinctly. 

Toward  the  end  of  the  dinner  the  professor  asked 
Marynia  if  she  would  like  to  see  the  Pope.  He  said  that 
in  three  days  a  Belgian  pilgrimage  was  to  arrive,  and  that 
she  might  join  it.  Svirski,  who  knew  all  Rome  and  all 
the  monsignores,  guaranteed  to  effect  this  with  ease.  When 
he  heard  this,  the  professor  looked  at  him,  and  inquired, — 

"Then  you  are  almost  a  Roman?" 

"Of  sixteen  years'  standing." 

"Is  it  possible!" 


CHILDREN  OF  TUE  SOIL.  311 

Here  the  professor  was  somewhat  confused,  fearing  lest 
he  had  committed  some  indiscretion,  but  still  wishing  to 
know  what  to  think  of  a  man  so  sympathetic,  he  overcame 
his  timidity,  and  inquired,  — 

"But  of  the  Quirinal,  or  the  Vatican?" 

"From Pognembin," answered  Svirski,  frowning  slightly. 

The  end  of  the  dinner  interrupted  further  explanations 
and  converse.  Marynia  could  scarcely  sit  still  at  the 
thought  that  she  would  see  the  Capitol,  the  Forum,  and 
the  Colosseum  by  moonlight.  In  fact,  somewhat  later 
they  were  driving  toward  the  ruins  along  the  Corso,  which 
was  lighted  by  electricity, 

TJie  night  was  calm  and  warm.  Around  the  Forum  and 
Colosseum  the  place  was  completely  deserted;  as,  for  that 
matter,  it  is  in  the  day  sometimes.  Near  the  church  of 
Santa  Maria  Liberatrice  some  person  in  an  open  window 
was  playing  on  a  flute,  and  one  could  hear  every  note  in 
the  stillness.  On  the  front  of  the  Forum  a  deep  shadow  fell 
from  the  height  of  the  Capitol  and  its  edifices;  but  farther 
on  it  was  flooded  with  clear,  greenish  light,  as  was  also 
the  Colosseum,  which  seemed  silver.  When  the  carriage 
halted  at  the  arches  of  the  gigantic  circus,  Pan  Stanislav, 
Svirski,  and  Vaskovski  entered  the  interior,  and  pushed 
toward  the  centre  of  the  arena,  avoiding  the  fragments  of 
columns,  friezes,  piles  of  bricks,  stones,  and  bases  of 
columns  standing  here  and  there,  aiid  fragments  piled  up 
near  the  arches.  Under  the  influence  of  silence  and  loneli- 
ness, words  did  not  rise  to  their  lips.  Through  the  arched 
entrances  came  to  the  interior  sheaves  of  moonlight,  which 
seemed  to  rest  quietly  on  the  floor  of  the  arena,  on  the 
opposite  walls,  on  the  indentations,  on  openings  in  the 
walls,  on  breaks,  on  the  silvered  mosses  and  ivy,  covering 
the  ruin  here  and  there.  Other  parts  of  the  building, 
sunk  in  impenetrable  darkness,  produced  the  impression 
of  black  and  mysterious  gulleys.  From  the  low-placed 
cunicula  came  the  stern  breath  of  desolation.  Reality  was 
lost  amidst  that  labyrinth  and  confusion  of  walls,  arches, 
bright  spots,  bright  stripes,  and  deep  shadows.  The 
colossal  ruin  seemed  to  lose  its  real  existence,  and  to 
become  a  dream  vision,  or  rather,  a  kind  of  wonderful 
impression  composed  of  silence,  niglit,  the  moon,  sadness, 
and  the  remembrance  of  a  past,  mighty,  but  full  of  blood 
and  suffering. 

Svirski  began  to  speak  first,  and  in  a  subdued  voice,  — 


312  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

"  What  pain,  what  tears,  were  here !  what  a  measureless 
tragedy !  Let  people  say  what  they  please,  there  is  some- 
thing beyond  human  in  Christianity;  and  that  thought 
cannot  be  avoided." 

Here  he  turned  to  Marynia,  and  continued, — 

"  Imagine  that  might :  a  whole  world,  millions  of  people, 
iron  laws,  power  unequalled  before  or  since,  an  organiza- 
tion such  as  has  never  been  elsewhere,  greatness,  glory, 
hundreds  of  legions,  a  gigantic  city,  possessing  the  world, 
—  and  that  Palatine  hill  over  there,  possessing  the  city; 
it  would  seem  that  no  earthly  power  could  overturn  it. 
Meanwhile  two  Jews  come,  —  Peter  and  Paul,  not  with 
arms,  but  a  word;  and  see,  here  is  a  ruin,  on  the  Palatine 
a  ruin,  in  the  Forum  a  ruin,  and  above  the  city  crosses, 
crosses,  crosses  and  crosses." 

Again  there  was  silence;  but  from  the  direction  of  Santa 
Maria  Liberatrice  the  sound  of  the  flute  came  continually. 

After  a  while  Vaskovski  said,  pointing  to  the  arena,  — 

"There  was  a  cross  here,  too,  but  they  have  borne  it 
away." 

Pan  Stanislav  was  thinking,  however,  of  Svirski's  words; 
for  him  they  had  a  more  vital  interest  than  they  could 
have  for  a  man  who  had  finished  the  spiritual  struggle 
with  himself.  At  last  he  said,  following  his  own  course 
of  thought,  — 

"Yes,  there  is  something  beyond  human  in  this;  some 
truth  shines  into  the  eyes  here,  like  that  moon." 

They  were  going  slowly  toward  the  entrance,  when  a 
carriage  rattled  outside.  Then  in  the  dark  passage  leading 
to  the  centre  of  the  circus,  steps  were  heard;  two  tall 
figures  issued  from  the  shade  into  the  light.  One  of  these, 
dressed  in  gray  stuff,  which  gleamed  like  steel  in  the 
moonlight,  approached  a  number  of  steps  to  distinguish 
the  visitors  better,  and  said  all  at  once,  — 

"Good -evening!  The  night  is  so  beautiful  that  we,  too, 
came  to  the  Colosseum.     What  a  night!  " 

Pan  Stanislav  recognized  the  voice  of  Pani  Osnovski. 

Giving  her  hand,  she  spoke  with  a  voice  as  soft  as  the 
sound  of  that  flute  which  came  from  the  direction  of  the 
church,  — 

"I  shall  begin  to  believe  in  presentiments,  for  really 
something  told  me  that  here  I  should  find  acquaintances. 
How  beautiful  the  night  isl" 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  313 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

On  returning  to  the  hotel,  Pan  Stanislav  and  Marynia 
were  surprised  somewhat  to  find  the  Osnovskis'  cards;  and 
their  astonishment  rose  from  this,  that,  being  newly  married, 
it  was  their  duty  to  make  the  first  visit.  For  this  unusual 
politeness  it  was  needful  to  answer  with  equal  politeness, 
hence  they  returned  the  visit  on  the  following  day. 
Bukatski,  who  saw  them  before  they  made  it,  though  he 
was  very  unwell,  and  could  barely  drag  his  feet  along, 
brought  himself  still  to  one  of  his  usual  witticisms,  and 
said  to  Pan  Stanislav,  when  they  were  alone  for  a 
moment,  - — 

"She  will  play  the  coquette;  but  if  thou  suppose  that 
she  Avill  fall  in  love  with  thee,  thou  art  mistaken.  She 
is  a  little  like  a  razor,  — she  needs  a  strap  to  sharpen  her- 
self; in  the  best  event,  thou  wilt  be  a  strap  for  her." 

"First,  I  do  not  wish  to  be  her  strap,"  answered  Pan 
Stanislav;  "and  second,  it  is  too  early." 

"Too  early?  That  means  that  thou  art  reserving  the 
future  for  thyself." 

"No;  it  means  that  I  am  thinking  of  something  else, 
and  also  that  T  love  my  Marynia  more  and  more.  And 
when  that  ends,  too  early  will  be  too  late,  and  that  Pani 
Osnovski  might  dent,  but  not  sharpen  herself,  on  me." 

And  Pan  Stanislav,  in  saying  this,  was  sincere:  he  had 
his  thoughts  occupied  really  with  something  else;  he  was 
too  honorable  to  betray  his  wife  at  any  time,  but  even  if 
not,  it  was  too  early  to  begin. 

He  was  so  greatly  sure  of  his  strength  that  he  felt  a 
certain  readiness  to  expose  himself  to  trial.  In  other 
words,  it  would  have  given  the  man  a  kind  of  pleasure  if 
Pani  Osnovski  had  dented  herself  on  him. 

After  lunch  he  went  with  Marynia  to  sit  to  Svirski;  the 
sitting,  however,  was  short,  since  the  artist  was  judge  in 
some  exhibition,  and  had  to  hasten  to  a  meeting.  Ihey 
returned  home,  and  Pan  Osnovski  came  to  them  a  quarter 

of  an  hour  later.  •  v   o   •    i  •    v  ^ 

Pan  Stanislav,  after  his  conversation  with  bvirski,  haa 

a  kind   of  compassion  for  Osnovski,  but  also  a  sort  ot 


314  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

small  opinion.  Marynia,  however,  felt/  for  liim  a  living 
sympathy;  she  was  won  by  wliat  she  had  heard  of  his 
kindness  and  delicacy,  as  well  as  his  attachment  to  his 
wife.  It  seemed  to  her  now  that  all  these  qualities  were 
as  if  written  on  his  face, — a  face  by  no  means  ugly, 
though  it  had  pimples  here  and  there. 

After  the  greeting,  Osnovski  began  to  speak  with  the 
confident  freedom  of  a  man  accustomed  to  good  society: 

*'l  come  at  the  instance  of  my  wife  with  a  proposal. 
Praise  to  (jod,  visiting  ceremonies  are  ended  between  us, 
though  abroad  it  is  not  worth  while  to  reckon  too  precisely 
in  this  matter.  The  affair  is  this:  We  are  going  to 
St.  Paul's  to-day,  and  then  to  the  Three  Fountains.  That 
is  outside  the  city;  there  is  an  interesting  cloister  in  the 
place,  and  a  beautiful  view.  It  would  be  very  agreeable  to 
us  if  you  would  consent  to  make  the  trip  in  our  company." 

Marynia  was  always  ready  for  every  trip,  especially  in 
company,  and  with  pleasant  conversation;  in  view  of  this 
she  looked  at  her  husband,  waiting  for  what  he  would  say. 
Pan  Stanislav  saw  that  she  wished  to  go,  and,  besides,  he 
thought  in  his  soul,  "  If  the  other  wants  to  dent  herself, 
let  her  do  it."     And  he  answered,  — 

"I  would  consent  willingly,  but  this  depends  on  my 
superior  power." 

His  ''superior  power"  was  not  sure  yet  whether  the 
obedient  subordinate  meant  that  really;  but,  seeing  on  his 
face  a  smile  and  good-humor,  she  made  bold  to  say  at 
last,  — 

"With  much  thankfulness;  but  shall  we  not  cause 
trouble?" 

"Not  trouble,  but  pleasure,"  answered  Osnovski.  "In 
that  event  the  matter  is  ended.  We  '11  be  here  in  a  quarter 
of  an  hour." 

In  fact,  they  set  out  a  quarter  of  an  hour  later.  Pani 
Osnovski 's  Chinese  eyes  were  full  of  satisfaction  and 
repose.  Wearing  an  iris-colored  robe,  in  which  she  might 
pass  for  the  eighth  wonder  of  the  world,  she  looked  really 
like  a  rusalka.^  And  before  they  had  reached  St.  Paul's, 
Pan  Stanislav  did  not  know  how  Pani  Osnovski,  who  had 
not  spoken  on  this  subject  to  him,  had  been  able  somehow 
to  say  to  him,  or  at  least  to  give  him  to  understand,  more 
or  less  as  follows:  "Thy  wife  is  a  pleasant  little  woman 
from  the  country;  of  my  husband  nothing  need  be  said. 
^  River-maiden  among  the  Slavs. 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  315 

We  two  only  are  able  to  understand  each  other  and  share 
impressions." 

But  he  resolved  to  torment  her.  When  they  arrived  at 
St.  Paul's,  which  Pani  Osnovski  did  not  mention  otherwise 
than  as  "San  Poolo  fuori  le  Mura/'^her  husband  wished 
to  stop  the  carriage,  but  she  said,  — 

"  We  will  stop  when  returning,  for  we  shall  know  then 
how  much  time  is  left  for  this  place;  but  now  we'll  go 
straight  to  the  Three  Fountains." 

Turning  to  Pan  Stanislav,  she  continued,  "There  are  in 
this  famous  place  various  things,  about  which  I  should 
like  to  ask  you." 

"Then  you  will  do  badly,  for  I  know  nothing  at  all  of 
these  matters." 

It  appeared  soon,  on  passing  various  monuments,  that 
of  the  whole  party  Pan  Osnovski  knew  most.  The  poor 
man  had  been  studying  the  guide-books  from  morning  till 
evening,  so  that  he  might  be  a  guide  for  his  wife,  and 
also  to  please  her  vith  his  knowledge.  But  she  cared 
nothing  for  explanations  which  her  husband  could  give, 
precisely  because  they  came  from  him.  The  insolent  self- 
assurance  with  wliich  Pan  Stanislav  had  confessed  that  he 
had  no  idea  of  antiquities  was  mere  to  her  taste. 

Beyond  St.  Paul's  opened  out  a  view  on  the  Campagna 
with  its  aqueducts,  which  seemed  to  run  toward  the  city 
in  haste,  and  on  the  Alban  hills,  veiled,  as  they  were,  with 
the  blue  haze  of  distance,  — a  view  at  once  calm  and  bright. 
Pani  Osnovski  gazed  for  some  time  with  a  dreamy  look, 
and  then  inquired,  — 

"  Have  you  been  in  Albani  or  Nemi  ?  " 

"Xo,"  answered  Pan  Stanislav;  "sitting  to  Svirski  breaks 
•■-he  day  so  for  us  that  Ave  cannot  make  long  excursions  till 
^he  portrait  is  finished." 

"  We  have  been  there ;  but  when  you  are  going,  take  me 
"Jvith  you,  take  me  with  you !  Is  it  agreed  ?  Will  you  per- 
mit? "  added  she,  turning  to  Marynia.  "I  shall  be  a  fifth 
wheel  to  some  extent,  but  never  mind.  Besides,  I  shall 
sit  quietly,  very  quietly,  in  a  corner  of  the  carriage,  and 
not  give  out  one  mru  mru !       Is  it  agreed  ?  " 

"Oi!  little  one,  little  one,"  said  Pan  Osnovski. 

But  she  continued,  'OTy  husband  will  not  believe  that 
1  am  in  love  with  Nemi ;  but  I  am.     When  I  was  there, 
it  seemed  to  me  that  Christianity  had  not  reached  the  place 
1  Thus  printed  to  show  her  style  of  Italian. 


316  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

yet;  that  in  the  night  certain  priests  come  out  and  celebrate 
pagan  rites  on  the  lake.  Silence  and  mystery !  there  you 
have  Nemi.  Will  you  believe  that  when  I  was  there  the 
wish  came  to  me  to  be  a  hermit,  and  it  has  not  left  me  to 
this  moment  ?  I  would  build  a  cell  on  the  bank  of  the  lake 
for  myself,  and  wear  a  robe  long  and  gray,  like  the  habit 
of  Saint  Francis  of  Assisi,  and  go  barefoot.  What  would  I 
give  to  be  a  hermit !     I  see  myself  at  the  lake  —  " 

"Anetka,^  but  what  would  become  of  me?"  inquired 
Osnovski,  half  in  jest,  balf  in  earnest. 

"  Oh,  thou  wouldst  console  thyself,"  said  she,  curtly. 

"  Thou  wouldst  be  a  hermitess,"  thought  Fan  Stanislav, 
"  if  on  the  other  side  of  the  lake  there  were  a  couple  of 
dozen  dandies  gazing  through  glasses  to  see  what  the 
hermitess  was  doing,  and  how  she  looked." 

He  was  too  well-bred  to  tell  her  this  directly ;  but  he  told 
her  something  similar,  and  which  could  be  understood. 

"Naturally,"  said  she,  laughing;  "  I  should  live  by  alms, 
and  should  have  to  see  people  sometimes ;  if  you  came  to 
Nemi,  I  should  come  to  you  too  and  repeat  in  a  very  low 
voice,  '  Un  soldo !  un  soldo ! ' " 

Saying  this,  she  stretched  her  small  hands  to  him, 
and  shook  them,  repeating  humbly,  — 

"  Un  soldo  per  la  povera !  un  soldo  !  " 

And  she  looked  into  his  eyes. 

Fan  Osnovski  spoke  meanwhile  to  Marynia. 

"  This  is  called  Three  Fountains,"  said  he,  "  for  there  are 
three  springs  here.  Saint  Paul's  head  was  cut  off  at  this 
place ;  and  there  is  a  tradition  that  the  head  jumped  three 
times,  and  that  on  those  places  springs  burst  forth.  The 
place  belongs  now  to  the  Trappists.  Formerly  people 
could  not  pass  a  night  here,  there  was  such  fever ;  now  there 
is  less,  for  they  have  planted  a  whole  forest  of  eucalyptuses 
on  the  hills.     Oh,  we  can  see  it  already." 

But  Pani  Osnovski,  bending  back  somewhat,  half  closed 
her  eyes  for  a  moment,  and  said  to  Pan  Staxiislav,  — 

"  This  Roman  air  intoxicates  me.  I  am  as  if  beside 
myself.  At  home  I  cannot  force  from  life  more  than  it 
gives  me  ;  but  here  I  am  demoralized,  I  feel  that  something 
is  wanting  to  me.  Do  I  know  what  ?  Here  one  feels 
something,  divines  something,  yearns  for  something. 
Maybe  that  is  bad.  Maybe  it  is  not  right  for  me  to  say 
this.  But  I  say  always  what  passes  through  my  mind. 
^  A  diminative  of  Aneta. 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  317 

At  hone,  when  a  child,  they  called  me  Little  Sincerity. 
I  shall  beg  my  husband  to  take  me  hence.  It  may  be  better 
to  live  in  my  own  narrow  shell,  like  a  nut,  or  a  snail." 

"  It  may  be  pleasant  in  shells  for  nuts  or  snails,"  an- 
swered Pan  Stanislav,  with  gravity,  "but  not  for  birds, 
and  besides  birds  of  paradise,  of  which  there  is  a  tradition 
that  they  have  no  legs  and  can  never  rest,  but  must  fly  and 

fly." 

"  What  a  beautiful  tradition !  "  exclaimed  Pani  Osnovski. 
And,  raising  her  hands,  she  began  to  move  them,  imitating 
the  motion  of  wings,  and  repeating,  — 

"  This  way,  forever  through  the  air." 

The  comparison  flattered  her,  though  she  was  astonished 
that  Pan  Stanislav  had  uttered  it  with  a  serious  voice,  but 
with  an  inattentive  and,  as  it  wei'e,  ironical  face.  He  began 
to  interest  her,  for  he  seemed  very  intelligent,  and  more 
difiicult  to  master  than  she  had  expected. 

Meanwhile  they  arrived  at  Three  Fountains.  They  visited 
the  garden,  the  church,  and  the  chapel,  in  the  basement  of 
which  three  springs  were  flowing.  Pan  Osnovski  explained, 
in  his  kind,  somewhat  monotonous  voice,  what  he  had  read 
previously.  Marynia  listened  with  interest ;  but  Pan  Stan- 
islav thought,  — 

"  Still  to  live  three  hundred  and  sixty-five  days  in  a 
year  with  him,  must  be  a  little  tiresome." 

That  justified  Pani  Osnovski  in  his  eyes  for  the  moment ; 
she,  taking  upon  herself  now  the  new  role  of  bird  of 
paradise,  did  not  rest  for  a  moment,  not  merely  on  the 
ground,  but  on  any  subject.  First  she  drank  eucalyptus 
liquor,  which  the  cloister  prepared  as  a  means  agai-nst  fever ; 
then  she  declared  decisively  that  if  she  were  a  man  she 
would  be  a  Trappist.  Later,  however,  she  rememl^ered  that 
her  sailing  career  would  be  agreeable  "ever  between  sea  and 
sky,  as  if  living  in  endlessness ; "  at  last  the  wish  to  become 
a  great,  a  very  great  writer,  gained  the  day  against  every- 
thing else,  —  a  writer  describing  the  minutest  movements 
of  the  soul,  half-conscious  feelings,  desires  incompletely  de- 
fined, all  forms,  all  colors,  all  shades.  The  party  learned 
also,  as  a  secret,  that  she  was  writing  her  memoirs,  which 
''that  honest  Yozio"  considers  a  masterpiece ;  but  she  knows 
that  that  is  nothing,  she  has  not  the  least  pretensions,  and 
she  ridicules  Yozio  and  the  memoirs.  ,      .  ,  i. 

"Yozio"  looks  at  her  with  loving  eyes,  and  with  great 
affection  on  his  pimpled  face,  and  says  with  a  protest,  — 


S18  CHILDREN   OF  THE  SOIL. 

"  As  to  the  memoirs,  I  beg  pardon  greatly." 
They  drove  away  about  suudown.  There  were  long  shad- 
ows from  the  trees;  the  sun  was  large  and  red.  The 
distant  aqueducts  and  the  Alban  hills  were  gleaming  in  rose- 
color.  They  were  halfway  when  the  "Angelus"  was 
sounded  in  the  tower  of  St.  Paul's,  and  immediately  after 
were  heard  a  second,  a  third,  a  tenth.  Each  church  gave 
the  signal  to  the  succeeding  one ;  and  such  a  mighty  chorus 
was  formed  as  if  the  whole  air  were  ringing,  as  if  the 
"Angelus  "  had  been  sounded  not  merely  by  the  city,  but  the 
whole  region,  the  plains,  and  the  mountains. 

Pah  Stauislav  looked  on  Maryuia's  face,  lighted  by  the 
golden  gleams.  There  was  great  calm  in  it  and  attention. 
It  was  evident  that  she  was  repeating  the  "Angelus  "  now, 
as  she  had  repeated  it  in  Kremen,  when  it  was  sounded  in 
Vantory.  Always  and  everywhere  the  same.  Pan  Stanislav 
remembered  again  the  "  service  of  God."  It  seemed  to  him 
more  simple  and  pacifying  than  ever.  But  now,  while  ap- 
proaching the  city,  he  understood  the  permanence,  the 
vitality,  the  immensity,  of  those  beliefs.  "All  this,"  thought 
be,  "  has  endured  thus  for  a  thousand  and  a  half  of  years  ; 
and  the  strength  and  certainty  of  this  city  is  only  in  those 
towers,  those  bells,  that  permanence  of  the  cross,  which  en- 
dures and  endures."  Again  Svirski's  words  came  to  him : 
"Here  a  ruin,  on  the  Palatine  a  ruin,  in  the  Forum  a  ruin,  but 
over  the  city  crosses,  crosses,  crosses  and  crosses."  It  seemed 
to  him  beyond  a  doubt  that  in  that  very  permanence  there  is 
something  superhuman.  Meanwhile  the  bells  sounded,  and 
the  heavens  above  the  city  were  covered  with  twilight. 
Under  the  impression  produced  by  the  praying  Marynia, 
and  the  bells,  and  that  vesper  feeling,  which  seemed  to 
hover  over  the  city  and  the  whole  land,  the  following  thought 
began  to  take  form  in  Pan  Stanislav,  who  had  much  mental 
directness :  "  What  an  idiot  and  vain  fool  should  I  be,  in 
view  of  the  needs  of  faith  and  that  feeling  of  God,  were  I 
to  seek  some  special  forms  of  love  and  reverence  of  my  own, 
instead  of  accepting  those  which  Marynia  calls  'service  of 
God,'  and  which  still  must  be  the  best,  since  the  world  has 
lived  nearly  two  thousand  years  in  them !  "  Then  the  reason- 
ing side  of  this  thought  struck  him  as  a  practical  man,  and 
he  continued  to  himself,  almost  joyously  :  "  On  one  side  the 
traditions  of  a  thousand  years,  the  life  of  God  knows  how 
many  generations  and  how  many  societies,  for  which  there 
was  and  is  delight  in  those  forms,  the  authority  for  God 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  319 

knows  how  many  persons  who  consider  them  as  the  only 
forms ;  on  the  other  side,  who  ?  I,  a  partner  in  the  com- 
mission house  of  Bigiel  and  Polanyetski;  and  I  had  the 
pretension  to  think  out  something  better  into  which  the 
Lord  God  would  fit  Himself  more  conveniently.  For  this  it 
is  needful  at  least  to  be  a  fool !  I,  besides,  am  a  man  sincere 
with  myself ;  and  I  could  not  endure  it  if  from  time  to  time 
the  thought  came  to  me,  —  I  am  a  fool.  But  my  mother  be- 
lieved in  this,  and  my  wife  believes ;  and  I  have  never 
seen  greater  peace  in  any  one  than  in  them." 

If  ere  he  looked  at  Marynia  once  and  a  second  time ;  she 
had  finished  evidently  her  "  Angelus,"  for  she  smiled  at  him 
in  answer,  and  inquired,  — 

"  Why  so  silent  ?  " 

"We  are  all  silent,"  he  answered. 

And  so  it  was,  but  for  various  reasons.  While  Pan 
Stanislav  was  occupied  with  his  thoughts,  Pani  Osuovski 
attacked  him  a  number  of  times  with  her  eyes  and  her  words. 
He  answered  her  words  with  something  disconnected,  and 
did  not  notice  her  glances  in  any  way.  He  simply  offended 
her:  she  might  have  forgiven  him,  she  might  have  been 
pleased  even,  if  to  her  statement  that  she  wished  to  be  a  nun, 
he  had  answered  with  impudence  concealed  in  polished 
words ;  but  he  wounded  her  mortally  when  he  ceased  to 
notice  her,  and  in  punishment  she  ceased  also  to  notice  him. 

But  as  a  person  of  good  breeding  she  became  all  the 
politer  to  Marynia,  She  inquired  touching  her  plans  on  the 
following  day  ;  and,  learning  that  they  were  to  be  at  the 
Vatican,  she  announced  that  she  and  her  husband  had 
tickets  of  admission,  and  would  use  the  opportunity 
also. 

"  You  know  the  dress  ?  "  inquired  she.  "  A  black  robe, 
and  black  lace  on  the  head.  One  looks  a  little  old  in  them, 
but  no  matter." 

"  I  know;  Pan  Svirski  forewarned  me,"  answered  Marynia. 

"  Pan  Svirski  always  talks  of  you  to  me  when  I  am  sit- 
ting to  him.     He  has  great  regard  for  you." 

"And  I  for  him." 

During  this  conversation  they  arrived  at  the  hotel.  Pan 
Stanislav  received  such  a  slight  and  cool  pressure  of  the 
hand  from  the  fair  lady  that,  though  his  head  was  occupied 
with  something  else,  he  noticed  it. 

"Is  that  a  new  method,"  thought  he,  "or  have  I  said 
something  that  displeased  her?" 


320  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

*'  What  dost  thou  think  of  Pani  Osnovski  ?  "  asked  he  of 
Marynia  in  the  evening. 

''  I  think  that  Pan  Svirski  may  be  right  in  some  meas- 
ure." 

And  Pan  Stanislav  answered:  "She  is  writing  at  this 
moment  '  memoirs/  which  '  Yozio '  considers  a  master- 
piece." 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  321 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

1>EXT  morning  when  Marynia  came  out  to  her  husband  he 
hardly  knew  her.  Dressed  in  black,  and  with  a  black  lace 
veil  on  her  head,  she  seemed  taller,  more  slender,  darker, 
and  older.  But  he  was  pleased  by  a  certain  solemnity  in 
her  which  recalled  the  ceremony  of  their  marriage.  Half 
an  hour  later  they  started.  On  the  road  Marynia  con- 
fessed to  fear,  and  a  beating  of  the  heart.  He  pacified  her 
playfully,  though  he,  too,  was  moved  somewhat;  and  when, 
after  a  short  drive,  they  entered  the  gigantic  half-circle 
in  front  of  St.  Peter's,  he  felt  also  that  his  pulse  was  not 
beating  as  every  day,  and,  besides,  he  had  a  strange  feeling 
of  being  smaller  than  usual.  Near  the  steps,  where  stood 
a  number  of  Swiss  guards,  arrayed  in  the  splendid  uniform 
invented  by  Michael  Angelo,  they  found  Svirski,  who 
led  them  up  with  a  throng  of  people,  mostly  Belgians. 
Marynia,  who  was  somewhat  dazed,  did  not  know  herself 
when  she  entered  a  very  spacious  hall,  in  which  the  throng 
was  still  denser,  excepting  on  a  space  in  the  centre,  where 
the  Swiss  guards  were  posted  in  lines,  and  kept  a  broad 
passage  open.  The  crowd,  among  which  the  French  and 
Flemish  languages  were  to  be  heard,  whispered  in  low 
voices,  and  turned  their  heads  and  eyes  toward  a  passage, 
in  which,  from  time  to  time,  appeared, through  the  adjoin- 
ing hall,  forms  in  remarkable  costumes,  which  reminded 
Pan  Stanislav  of  galleries  in  Antwerp  or  Brussels.  It 
seemed  to  him  that  the  Middle  Ages  were  rising  from  the 
dead:  now  it  was  some  knight  of  those  ages,  in  a  helmet, 
different  indeed  from  helmets  on  the  ancient  portraits,  but 
with  steel  on  his  breast;  now  a  herald  in  a  short  red 
dalmatica,  and  with  a  red  cap  on  his  head;  at  times 
through  the  open  door  appeared  purple  cardinals,  or  violet 
bishops,  ostrich  feathers,  lace  on  black  velvet,  and  heads 
immensely  venerable,  white  hair  and  faces,  as  if  from  a 
sarcophagus.  But  it  was  evident  that  the  glances  of  the 
throng  were  falling  on  those  peculiar  dresses  and  colors 
and  faces,  as  if,  in  passing,  that  their  eyes  were  waiting 
for  something  beyond,  something  higher,  some  other  heart; 
it  was  clear  that  in  people's  minds  attention  was  fixed  as 

21 


322  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

was  feeling  in  their  souls,  in  waiting  for  a  moment  which 
comes  once  in  a  lifetime,  and  is  memorable  ever  after. 
Pan  Stanislav,  holding  Marynia  by  the  hand,  so  as  not  to 
lose  her  in  the  throng,  felt  that  hand  tremble  from  emotion ; 
as  to  him,  in  the  midst  of  those  silent  crowds  and  beating 
hearts,  before  that  historical  dignity  of  former  ages  rising 
from  the  dead,  as  it  were,  in  the  midst  of  that  attention 
and  expectation,  he  felt  a  second  time  the  wonderful  im- 
pression of  becoming  smaller  and  smaller,  till  he  was  the 
smallest  that  lie  had  ever  been  in  life. 

At  that  moment  a  low  and  rather  panting  voice  whispered 
near  them, — 

"  I  have  been  looking  for  you,  and  found  you  with  diflfi- 
culty.     The  ceremony  will  begin  at  once,  it  seems." 

But  it  was  not  to  begin  at  once.  The  monsignor  acquaint- 
ance greeted  Svirski  meanwhile,  and,  speaking  a  few  words 
to  him,  conducted  the  whole  party  politely  to  the  adjoining 
hall,  which  was  fitted  in  crimson  damask.  Pan  Stanislav 
saw  with  astonishment  that  this  hall,  too,  was  full  of 
people,  with  the  exception  of  one  end,  which  was  reserved 
by  a  guard  of  honor,  and  in  which  was  an  armchair  on  an 
elevation,  and  before  it  a  number  of  prelates  and  bishops 
conversing  confidentially.  Here  expectation  and  attention 
were  more  expressly  visible.  It  was  evident  that  people 
were  holding  their  breath;  and  all  faces  had  a  solemn, 
mysterious  expression.  The  azure  clearness  of  the  day, 
mingled  with  the  purple  reflections  of  the  tapestry,  filled 
that  hall  with  a  kind  of  unusual  light,  in  which  the  rays 
of  the  sun,  breaking  in  here  and  there  through  the  window- 
panes,  appeared  very  ruddy  and  of  a  deeper  red. 

They  waited  some  time  yet;  at  last,  in  the  first  hall  a 
murmur  was  heard,  then  a  muttering,  then  a  shout,  and, 
finally,  in  the  open  side  door  appeared  a  white  figure, 
borne  by  the  noble  guard.  Marynia's  hand  pressed  Pan 
Stanislav's  nervously;  he  returned  the  pressure;  and  swift 
impressions,  merged  in  one  general  feeling  of  the  excep- 
tional and  solemn  import  of  the  moment,  flashed  through 
their  minds,  as  during  the  ceremony  of  their  marriage. 

One  of  the  cardinals  began  to  speak,  but  Pan  Stanislav 
neither  heard  nor  understood  what  he  said.  His  eyes,  his 
thoughts,  his  whole  soul,  were  with  the  figure  clothed  in 
white.  Nothing  in  it  escaped  his  attention, — its  un- 
paralleled emaciation,  its  frailness,  its  thinness,  and  its 
face  as  pale,  and  at  the  same  time  as  transparent,  as  faces 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  323 

of  the  dead  are.  There  was  in  it  something  which  had  no 
physical  strength,  or  in  every  case  it  seemed  to  him  simply 
half  body,  half  apparition, —  as  it  were,  a  light  shining 
through  alabaster;  a  spirit,  fixed  in  some  transparent  mat- 
ter ;  an  intermediate  link  between  two  worlds  ;  a  link  human 
yet,  though  already  preterhuman,  earthly  so  far,  but  also 
above  earthly  things.  And  through  a  marvellous  antithesis 
the  matter  in  it  seemed  to  be  something  apparitional,  and 
the  spirit  something  m.aterial. 

Afterward,  when  people  tegan  to  approach  it  for  a  bless- 
ing; when  Fan  Stanislav  saw  his  Maryniaat  its  feet;  when 
he  felt  that  to  those  knees,  already  half  empyrean,  one 
might  still  incline  as  to  those  of  a  father, — an  emotion 
surpassing  everything  seized  him;  his  eyes  were  as  if  mist- 
covered;  never  in  life  had  he  felt  himself  such  a  small 
grain  of  sand,  but  at  the  same  time  he  felt  himself  a  grain 
of  sand  in  which  the  grateful  heart  of  a  little  child  was 
throbbing. 

After  they  had  gone  out,  all  were  silent.  Marynia  had 
eyes  as  if  roused  from  sleep;  Vaskovski's  hands  were 
trembling.  Bukatski  dragged  himself  in  to  lunch;  but, 
being  ill,  he  could  not  excite  conversation  in  any  one. 
Svirski,  strange  to  say,  talked  little  while  Marynia  was 
sitting,  and  returned  continually  to  the  same  subject;  from 
time  to  time  he  repeated, — 

"Yes,  yes;  whoever  has  not  seen  that  can  have  no  con- 
ception of  it.     That  will  remain." 

In  the  evening  Pan  Stanislav  and  Marynia  went  to  see 
the  sunset  from  Trinita  dei  Monti.  The  day  ended  very 
beautifully.  The  whole  city  Avas  buried  in  a  kind  of  hazy 
golden  gleam;  under  their  feet,  far  down  in  the  valley,  on 
the  Piazza  di  Spagna,  darkness  was  beginning,  but  a  dark- 
ness yet  lighted,  in  the  mild  tones  of  which  irises  and 
white  lilies  were  visible  among  the  flowers  set  out  on  both 
sides  of  the  Via  Condotti.  In  the  whole  picture  there 
was  great  and  undisturbed  repose, — a  kind  of  soothing 
announcement  of  night  and  sleep.  Then  the  Piazza  di 
Spagna  began  to  sink  more  and  more  in  the  shade,  but  the 
Trinita  was  shining  continually  in  purple. 

Pan  Stanislav  and  Marynia  felt  this  calmness  reflected 
in  themselves;  they  descended  the  giant  stairs  then  with  a 
wonderful  feeling  of  peace  in  their  souls.  All  the  impres- 
sions of  the  day  settled  down  in  them  in  lines  as  great  and 
calm  as  those  twilight  belts,  wliieh  were  still  shining  above 
them. 


824  CHILDREN  OF  THE   SOIL. 

"Knowest  thou,"  said  Pan  Stanislav,  "what  I  remember 
yet  from  childhood's  years?  That  Avitli  us  at  home  they 
always  said  the  evening  rosary  together."  And  he  looked 
with  an  inquiring  glance  into  Marynia's  eyes. 

"Oh,  my  Stas!"  said  she,  with  a  voice  trembling  from 
emotion,  "I  did  not  dare  to  mention  this  —  my  best." 

"'  Service  of  God,'  —  dost  thou  remember?" 

But  she  had  said  that  formerly  with  such  simplicity,  and 
as  a  thing  so  self-evident,  that  she  remembered  nothing 
whatever  about  it. 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  325 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

But  Pan  Stanislav  was  in  permanent  disfavor  with  Pant 
Osnovski.  Meeting  him  at  Svirski's,  between  one  sitting 
and  another,  she  spoke  to  him  only  in  so  far  as  good  breed- 
ing and  politeness  demanded.  He  saw  this  perfectly,  and 
asked  himself  sometimes,  "What  does  that  woman  want 
of  me?"  but  troubled  himself  little.  He  would  have 
troubled  himself  still  less  if  "that  woman,"  instead  of 
being  eight  and  twenty,  had  been  eight  and  fifty  years  of 
age ;  if  she  had  been  without  those  violet  eyes  and  those 
cherry  lips.  And  such  is  human  nature  that,  in  spite  of 
the  fact  that  he  wanted  nothing  of  her,  and  expected  noth- 
ing, he  could  not  refrain  from  thinking  what  might  happen 
should  he  strive  really  for  her  favor,  and  how  far  would 
she  be  capable  of  going. 

They  had  another  trip  of  four  to  the  catacombs  of 
St.  Calixtus,  for  Pan  Stanislav  wished  to  repay  politeness 
with  politeness,  —  that  is,  a  carriage  with  a  carriage.  But 
this  trip  did  not  bring  reconciliation;  they  only  conversed 
so  far  as  not  to  call  attention  to  themselves.  At  last  this 
began  to  anger  Pan  Stanislav.  In  fact,  Pani  Osnovski's 
bearing  developed  a  special  relation  between  them,  un- 
pleasant in  a  way,  but  known  only  to  them,  hence  some- 
thing between  them  exclusively,  —  a  kind  of  secret,  to 
which  no  one  else  was  admitted.  Pan  Stanislav  considered 
that  all  this  would  end  with  the  work  on  her  portrait;  but 
though  the  face  had  been  finished  some  time,  there  remained 
many  little  details,  for  which  the  presence  of  the  charm- 
ing model  was  indispensable.  Even  for  the  simple  reason 
that  Svirski  did  not  wish  to  lose  time,  it  happened  that 
when  Pan  Stanislav  and  his  wife  came,  the  Osnovskis  were 
in  the  studio.  Sometimes  they  stopped  a  little  for  greeting 
and  a  short  talk  touching  yesterday's  impressions;  some- 
times Osnovski  was  sent  by  his  wife  on  an  errand,  or  for 
some  news.  In  that  event  he  went  out  first,  leaving  the 
carriage  for  her  before  the  studio. 

And  it  happened  once  that  when  Marynia  had  taken  her 
place  for  a  sitting,  Pani  Osnovski  had  not  gone  yet;  after 
a  while,  learning  that  Marynia  had  be«n  at  the  theatre  the 


326  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

evening  before,  she,  while  putting  on  her  hat  and  gloves 
before  the  mirror,  inquired  about  singers  and  the  opera, 
then,  turning  to  Fan  Stanislav,  she  said,  — 

"And  now,  I  pray  you,  conduct  me  to  the  carriage." 

She  threw  on  her  wrap,  and  began  to  look  for  the  ribbons 
sewn  behind  to  the  lining,  so  as  to  fasten  it  around  her 
waist,  but  she  stopped  suddenly  at  the  entrance,  — 

"I  cannot  find  the  ribbons  because  I  have  my  gloves  on; 
take  pity  on  me." 

Pan  Stanislav  had  to  look  for  the  ribbons,  but  in  doing 
so  he  was  forced  to  put  his  arm  almost  around  her ;  after  a 
moment  the  brewing  of  desire  poured  about  him,  all  the 
more  since  she  bent  toward  him,  and  the  warmth  of  her 
face  and  body  struck  him. 

"But  why  are  you  angry  with  me?"  inquired  she,  in  an 
undertone;  "that  is  bad.  I  am  in  such  need  of  friendly 
souls.     What  have  I  done  to  you?" 

He  found  the  ribbons,  recovered  himself,  and  with  that 
somewhat  coarse  satisfaction  of  a  rude  man,  who  desires 
to  use  his  triumph,  and  to  signify  that  he  has  not  yielded, 
answered  siiiiply ,  with  an  impertinence,  — 

"You  have  done  nothing  to  me,  and  you  can  do  nothing." 

But  she  repulsed  the  impoliteness,  as  if  it  were  a  ball  at 
tennis. 

"Because  sometimes  I  notice  persons  so  little  that  I 
iardly  see  them." 

They  went  in  silence  to  the  carriage. 

"But  is  it  that  way?"  thought  Pan  Stanislav,  returning 
to  the  studio;  "a  man  might  advance  there  as  far  as  he 
pleased;  "  and  a  quiver  passed  through  him.  "As  far  as 
he  pleased,"  repeated  he. 

Herewith  he  was  not  conscious  that  he  had  made  such  a 
mistake  as  is  made  daily  by  dozens  of  men  who  are  lovers 
of  hunting  in  other  men's  grounds.  Pani  Osnovski  was  a 
coquette :  she  had  a  dry  heart,  and  her  thought  was  dis- 
honorable already;  but  she  was  hundreds  of  miles  yet  from 
complete  physical  fall. 

Meanwhile  Pan  Stanislav  returned  to  the  studio  feeling 
that  he  had  made  an  immense  sacrifice  for  Marynia,  and 
with  a  certain  regret  in  his  heart,  first,  because  she  would 
not  know  what  had  happened,  and  second,  if  she  should 
know,  she  would  consider  his  action  as  perfectly  simple. 
This  feeling  angered  him;  and  when  he  looked  at  her,  at 
her  clear  eyes,  her  calm  face,  and  her  fair,  honest  beauty, 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  327 

a  comparison  of  those  two  women  urged  itself  into  his 
mind  in  spite  of  him,  and  in  his  soul  he  said, 

"Ah,  Marynia!  such  as  she  would  rather  sink  through 
the  earth;  of  her  it  is  possible  to  be  certain." 

And  — singular  thing  — there  was  in  this  an  undoubted 
recognition,  but  there  was  also  a  shade  of  regret,  and,  as 
it  were,  of  irritation,  that  that  was  a  woman  so  greatly  his 
own  tliat  he  did  not  feel  bound  to  a  continual  admiration 
of  her  worthiness. 

And  for  the  rest  of  the  sitting  he  turned  his  thought  to 
Pani  Osnovski.  He  supposed  that  in  future  she  would 
simply  cease  to  give  lier  hand  to  him,  and  it  turned  out 
that  he  was  mistaken  again.  On  the  contrary,  wishing  to 
show  that  she  attached  no  importance  to  him  or  to  his 
words,  she  was  more  polite  to  him  than  hitherto.  Pan 
Osnovski,  however,  had  an  olfended  look,  and  became  more 
and  more  icy  every  day  toAvard  him.  This  was  caused, 
undoubtedly,  by  conversations  with  "Anetka." 

A  few  days  later,  however,  impressions  of  another  sort 
effaced  that  adventure  from  Pan  Stanislav's  mind.  Bukatski 
had  long  been  ill;  he  complained  more  and  more  of  a  pain 
in  the  back  of  his  head,  and  a  strange  feeling  of  separating 
from  his  own  muscles.  His  humor  revived  still  at  moments, 
but  it  shot  up  and  went  out  like  fireworks.  He  came  to 
the  table  (Vhote  more  rarely.  At  last  Pan  Stanislav  re- 
ceived his  card  one  morning;  on  it  these  words  were  written 
with  a  very  uncertain  hand,  — 

My  Dear, —  After  to-night  it  seems  that  I  am  about  to  get  on 
horseback.  If  thou  wish  to  see  my  departure,  come,  especially  in 
lack  of  anything  better  to  do. 

Pan  Stanislav  hid  the  card  from  Marynia,  but  went 
straightway.  He  found  Bukatski  in  bed,  and  a  doctor 
with  him,  whom  Bukatski  sent  away  that  moment. 

"Thou  hast  frightened  me  terribly,"  said  Pan  Stanislav. 
"What  ails  thee ?'~" 

"Nothing  great,  — a  little  paralysis  of  the  lower  part  of 
the  body." 

"Have  the  fear  of  God!" 

"Thou  speakest  wisely,  if  there  were  time  for  it;  but 
now  T  have  no  power  in  my  left  arm,  in  my  left  leg,  and 
I  cannot  rise.  Thus  did  I  wake  this  morning.  I  thought 
that  I  had  lost  speech,  too,  and  began  to  declaim  to  myself, 


328  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

*  Per  me  si  va; '  but,  as  thou  seest,  I  have  not  lost  speech. 
My  tongue  remained,  and  now  I  am  trying  to  find  calmness 
of  thought." 

"But  art  thou  sure  that  it  is  paralysis?  It  may  be  a 
temporary  numbness." 

"What  is  life?  —  Ah,  only  a  moment,"  Bukatski  began 
to  declaim;  "I  cannot  move,  and  that  is  the  end,  or,  if 
thou  prefer,  the  beginning." 

"That  would  be  a  terrible  thing,  but  I  do  not  believe  it; 
any  one  may  be  benumbed  for  a  time." 

"There  are  moments  in  life  which  are  somewhat  bitter, 
as  the  carp  said  when  the  cook  was  scraping  his  scales  off 
with  a  knife.  I  confess  that  at  first  terror  took  hold  of 
me.  Hast  thou  ever  felt  the  hair  rising  on  thy  head?  It 
is  not  to  be  reckoned  altogether  among  feelings  of  delight. 
But  I  have  recovered  my  balance,  and  now,  at  the  end  of 
three  hours,  it  seems  to  me  that  I  have  lived  ten  years 
with  my  paralysis.  It  is  a  question  of  habit!  as  the 
mushroom  said  when  in  the  frying-pan.  I  am  chatting 
much,  for  I  haven't  much  time.  Dost  thou  know,  my 
dear  friend,  that  I  shall  die  in  a  couple  of  days?" 

"  Indeed,  thou  art  chatting !  Paralyzed  people  live  thirty 
years." 

"Even  forty,"  answered  Bukatski.  "Paralysis  in  that 
case  is  a  luxury  which  some  may  permit  themselves,  but 
not  men  like  me.  For  a  strong  man,  who  has  a  good  neck, 
good  shoulders,  good  breast,  and  proper  legs,  it  may  be 
even  a  species  of  rest,  a  kind  of  vacation  after  a  frolic- 
some youth,  and  an  opportunity  for  meditation;  but  for  me! 
Dost  remember  how  thou  wert  laughing  at  my  legs?  Well, 
I  tell  thee  that  they  were  elephantine  at  that  time  if  com- 
pared with  what  they  are  to-day.  It  is  not  true  that  every 
man  is  a  clod;  I  am  only  a  line,  — I  am  not  joking,  — and, 
moreover,  a  line  vanishing  in  infimtij." 

Pan  Stanislav  began  to  shrug  his  shoulders,  to  contra- 
dict, and  to  quote  known  examples ;  but  Bukatski  resisted. 

"Stop!  I  feel  and  know  that  in  a  couple  of  days 
paralysis  of  the  brain  will  set  in.  I  have  been  expecting 
this  a  whole  year,  but  told  no  one,  and  for  a  year  have 
been  reading  books  on  medicine.  A  second  attack  will 
come,  and  that  will  be  final." 

Here  he  was  silent,  but  after  a  time  continued,  — 

"And,  believe  me,  I  do  not  like  this.  Think  of  it:  I 
am  as  much  alone  as  a  finger  cut  off  from  its  hand ;  I  have 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  329 

no  one.  Here,  and  even  in  Warsaw,  only  people  who  are 
paid  would  take  care  of  me.  Life  is  terribly  wretched 
when  a  man  is  without  power  of  movement,  and  without  a 
living  soul  who  is  related.  When  I  lose  speech,  as  I  have 
lost  power  of  motion,  any  woman  in  attendance,  or  any  man, 
may  strike  me  on  the  face  as  much  as  she  or  he  pleases. 
But  thou  must  know  one  thing.  I  feared  paralysis  at  the 
lirst  moment;  but  in  my  weak  body  there  is  a  brave  spirit. 
Remember  what  I  said  to  thee, — that  I  fear  not  death; 
and  I  do  not  fear  it." 

Here  there  gleamed  in  Bukatski's  eyes  a  certain  pale  re- 
flection  of  daring  and  energy,  hidden  somewhere  in  the 
bottom  of  that  disjointed  and  softened  soul. 

But  Pan  Stanislav,  who  bad  a  good  heart,  put  his  hand 
on  the  palm  already  paralyzed,  and  said,  with  great 
feeling,  — 

"  My  Adzia !  But  do  not  suppose  that  we  will  leave  thee 
thus,  desert  thee  as  thou  art ;  and  do  not  say  that  thou  hast 
no  one.  Thou  hast  me,  and  besides  me,  my  wife,  and 
Svirski ,  Vaskovski,  and  the  Bigiels.  For  us  thou  art  not 
a  stranger.  I  will  take  thee  to  Warsaw,  I  will  put  thee  in 
the  hospital,  and  we  will  care  for  thee,  and  no  attendant 
will  strike  thee  on  the  face,  — first,  because  I  should  break 
the  bones  of  such  a  person;  secondly,  we  have  Sisters  of 
Charity,  and  among  them  is  Pani  Emilia." 

Bukatski  was  silent,  and  grew  pale  a  little;  he  was  more 
moved  than  he  wished  to  show.  A  shadow  passed  over 
his  eyes. 

"Thou  art  a  good  fellow,"  said  he,  after  a  prolonged 
silence.  "Thou  knowest  not  what  a  miracle  thou  hast 
worked,  for  thou  hast  brought  it  about  that  I  wish  some- 
thing yet.  Yes;  I  should  like  wonderfully  to  go  to 
Warsaw,  to  be  among  you  all.  I  should  be  immensely 
pleased  there." 

"  Here  thou  must  go  at  once  to  some  hospital,  and  be 
under  constant  care.  Svirski  must  know  where  the  best 
one  is.  Yield  thyself  to  me,  wilt  thou?  Let  me  arrange 
for  thee." 

"Do  what  may  please  thee,"  answered  Bukatski,  whom 
consolation  began  to  enter  now,  in  view  of  the  new  plans 
and  tlie  energy  of  his  friend. 

Pan  Stanislav  wrote  to  Svirski  and  to  Vaskovski,  and 
sent  out  messengers  immediately.  Half  an  hour  later  both 
appeared,  Svirski  with  a  famous  local  physician.     Before 


330  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

mid-day  Bukatski  fouud  himself  in  a  hospital,  in  a  well- 
lighted  and  cheerful  chamber. 

"What  a  pleasant  and  warm  tone!  "  said  he,  looking  at 
the  golden  color,  and  the  walls  and  ceiling.  "This  is 
nice."  Then,  turning  to  Pan  Stanislav,  he  said,  "Come  to 
me  in  the  evening,  but  go  now  to  thy  wife." 

Fan  Stanislav  took  farewell  of  him,  and  went  out. 
When  he  reached  home  he  told  Marynia  the  whole  story 
cautiously,  for  he  did  not  wish  to  frighten  her  with  sudden 
news,  giving  the  idea  that  he  was  in  a  dangerous  condition. 
Marynia  begged  him  to  take  her  to  Bukatski,  if  not  in 
the  evening,  in  the  morning  early,  which  he  promised  to 
do.  They  went  immediately  after  lunch,  for  that  day 
there  was  no  sitting  in  the  studio. 

But  before  they  arrived,  Vaskovski  was  there,  and  he 
did  not  leave  Bukatski  for  a  moment.  When  the  patient 
had  settled  himself  well  in  the  new  bed,  the  old  man  told 
him  how  once  he  had  thought  himself  dying,  but  after  con- 
fession and  receiving  the  sacraments,  he  grew  better,  as 
if  by  a  miracle. 

"A  well-known  method,  dear  professor,"  said  Bukatski, 
with  a  smile;  "I  divine  what  thy  object  is." 

The  professor  was  as  confused  as  if  caught  in  some  evil 
deed,  and  crossed  his  hands. 

"I  will  lay  a  wager  that  it  would  help  thee,"  said  he. 

Bukatski  answered  with  a  gleam  of  his  former  humor, 
"Very  well.  In  a  couple  of  days  I  shall  convince  myself, 
on  the  other  side  of  the  river,  how  much  it  will  help  me." 

The  arrival  of  Marynia  pleased  him,  all  the  more  that 
it  was  unexpected.  He  said  that  he  had  not  thought  to 
see  an}''  woman  on  this  side  of  the  river,  and,  moreover,  one 
of  his  own.  Therewith  he  began  to  scold  them  all  a  little, 
but  with  evident  emotion. 

"What  sentimentalists  they  are!"  said  he.  "It  is 
simply  a  judgment  to  be  occupied  with  such  a  skeleton 
grandfather  as  I  am.  Ye  will  never  have  reason.  What 
is  this  for?  What  good  in  it?  See,  even  before  death,  I 
am  forced  to  be  grateful ;  and  I  am  sincerely,  very  sincerely 
grateful," 

But  Marynia  did  not  let  him  talk  about  death ;  on  the 
contrary,  she  said  with  great  firmness  that  he  must  go  to 
Warsaw,  and  be  among  his  friends.  She  spoke  of  this  as  a 
thing  the  execution  of  which  was  not  subject  to  the  least 
doubt,  and  she  succeeded  gradually  in  convincing  Bukatski 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL,  331 

of  it.  She  told  him  how  to  prepare,  and  at  last  he  listened 
to  her  eagerly.  His  thoughts  passed  into  a  certain  condi- 
tion of  yielding,  in  which  they  let  themselves  be  led.  He 
felt  like  a  child,  and,  besides,  a  poor  child. 

That  same  day  Osnovski  visited  him,  and  also  showed 
as  much  interest  and  feeling  as  if  he  had  been  his  own 
brother.  Bukatski  had  out  and  out  not  expected  all  this, 
and  had  not  counted  on  anything  similar.  Therefore, 
when  later  in  the  evening  Pan  Stanislav  came  a  second 
time,  and  no  others  were  present,  he  said  to  him,  — 

"  I  tell  thee  sincerely  that  never  have  I  felt  with  such 
clearness  that  I  made  life  a  stupid  farce,  that  1  have 
wasted  it  like  a  dog."  And  soon  after  he  added,  "And  if 
I  had  found  a  real  pleasure  in  that  method  by  which  I 
was  living;  but  I  had  not  even  that  satisfaction.  How 
stupid  is  our  epoch!  A  man  makes  two  of  himself;  all 
that  is  best  in  him  he  hides  away,  shuts  in  somewhere  in 
corners,  and  becomes  a  kind  of  ape.  He  rather  persuades 
himself  of  the  uselessness  of  life  than  feels  it.  How 
wonderful  this  is!  One  thing  consoles  me,  — that  in  truth 
death  is  the  only  thing  real  in  life,  though,  on  the  other 
hand,  this  again  is  not  a  reason  why,  before  it  comes,  we 
should  say  of  it  as  a  fool  says  of  wine,  that  it  is  vinegar." 

"My  dear  friend,"  answered  Pan  Stanislav,  "thou  hast 
always  tortured  thyself  with  this  endless  winding  of  thought 
around  some  bobbin.     Do  not  do  that  at  present." 

"Thou  art  right.  But  I  am  unable  not  to  think  that 
while  I  was  walking  around  and  was  well  in  a  fashion,  I 
jeered  at  life;  and  now  —  I  tell  thee  as  a  secret  —  I  want 
to  live  longer." 

"Thou  wilt  live  longer." 

"Give  me  peace.  Thy  wife  was  persuading  me  of  that, 
but  now  again  I  do  not  believe  it.  And  it  is  painful  to 
me,  —  I  have  thrown  myself  away.  But  hear  why  I  wanted 
to  speak  with  thee.  I  know  not  whether  any  account  is 
waiting  for  me ;  I  say  sincerely  that  I  know  not,  but  still 
I  feel  a  kind  of  strange  alarm,  as  if  I  were  afraid.  And  I 
will  tell  thee  something:  during  life  I  did  nothing  for  my 
fellows,  and  I  was  able!  I  was  able!  In  presence  of  this 
thought  fear  seizes  me;  I  give  thee  my  word!  That  is 
an  unworthy  thing.  I  did  nothing;  I  ate  bread  without 
paying  for  it,  and  now  — death.  If  there  are  any  whips 
beyond,  and  if  they  are  waiting  for  me,  it  is  to  punish  that; 
and  listen,  Stas,  it  is  painful  to  me." 


332  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

Here,  although  he  spoke  with  the  xareless  tone  usual  to 
him,  his  face  expressed  real  dread,  his  lips  grew  pale  some- 
what, and  on  his  forehead  drops  of  sweat  appeared. 

"But  stop!"  said  Pan  Stanislav;  "see  what  comes  to 
his  head.     Thou  art  injuring  thyself." 

But  Bukatski  spoke  on :  "  Listen !  wait !  I  have  property 
which  is  rather  considerable;  let  even  that  do  something 
for  me.  I  will  leave  thee  a  part  of  it,  and  do  thou  use  the 
remainder  for  something  useful.  Thou  art  practical,  so  is 
Bigiel.  Think  of  something,  thou  and  he,  for  I  do  not 
believe  that  I  shall  have  time.     Wilt  thou  do  this?" 

"That,  and  thy  every  wish." 

"1  thank  thee.  How  wonderful  are  fears  and  reproaches 
of  this  kind!  And  still  I  cannot  escape  a  feeling  of  guilt. 
The  conditions  are  such  that  I  am  not  right!  One  should 
do  something  honorable  even  just  before  death.  But  it  is 
no  joke, — death.  If  that  were  something  visible,  but  it 
is  so  dark.  And  one  must  decay,  corrupt,  and  rot  in  the 
dark.     Art  thou  a  believer?" 

"Yes." 

"But  I,  neither  yes  nor  no.  I  amused  myself  with 
Nirvana,  as  with  other  things.  Dost  thou  know,  were  it 
not  for  the  feeling  of  guilt,  I  should  be  more  at  rest?  I 
had  no  idea  that  this  would  pain  me  so;  I  have  the  im- 
pression that  I  am  a  bee  which  has  robbed  its  hive,  and 
that  is  a  low  thing.  But  at  least  my  property  will  remain 
after  me.  This  is  true,  is  it  not?  I  have  spent  a  little, 
but  very  little,  on  pictures,  which  will  remain,  too;  isn't 
this  true  ?  But  now,  how  I  should  like  to  live  longer,  even 
a  year,  even  long  enough  not  to  die  here !  " 

He  meditated  a  while,  and  then  said,  — 

"  I  understand  one  thing  now :  life  may  be  bad,  for  a  man 
may  order  it  foolishly  ;  but  existence  is  good." 

Pan  Stanislav  went  away  late  in  the  night.  Through 
the  following  week  the  health  of  the  patient  was  wavering. 
The  doctors  were  unable  to  foresee  anything ;  they  judged, 
however,  that  a  journey  was  not  dangerous  in  any  case. 
Svirski  and  Vaskovski  volunteered  to  go  to  Warsaw  with 
the  sick  man,  who  was  yearning  for  home  more  and  more, 
and  who  mentioned  Pani  Emilia,  the  Sister  of  Charity, 
almost  daily.  But  on  the  eve  of  the  day  on  which  he  was 
to  go,  he  lost  speech  suddenly.  Pan  Stanislav's  heart  was 
bleeding  when  he  looked  at  his  eyes,  in  which  at  moments 
a  terrible  alarm  was  depicted,  and  at  moments  a  kind  ol 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  333 

great,  silent  prayer.  He  tried  to  write,  but  could  not.  In 
the  evening  came  paralysis  of  the  brain,  and  he  died. 

They  buried  him  in  the  Campo  Santo  temporarily.  Pan 
Stanislav  thought  that  his  looks  uttered  a  prayer  to  be  car- 
ried to  his  own  country,  and  Svirski  confirmed  that  thought 

Thus  vanished  that  bubble  which  gleamed  sometimes  with 
the  colors  of  the  rainbow,  but  was  as  empty  and  evanescent 
as  any  bubble. 

Pan  Stanislav  was  sincerely  afflicted  by  his  death,  and 
meditated  afterward  for  whole  hours  on  that  strange  life. 
He  did  not  share  these  thoughts  with  Marynia,  for  somehow 
it  had  not  become  a  custom  with  him  yet  to  confide  to  her 
anything  that  took  place  in  his  mind.  Finally,  as  hap- 
pens often  with  people  who  are  thinking  of  the  dead,  he 
drew  from  these  thoughts  various  conclusions  to  his  own 
advantage. 

"  Bukatski,"  said  he  to  himself,  "  was  never  able  to  come 
to  harmony  with  his  own  mind :  he  lacked  the  understand- 
ing of  life  ;  he  could  not  fix  his  position  in  that  forest,  and 
he  travelled  always  according  to  the  fancy  of  the  moment. 
But  if  he  had  felt  contented  with  that  system,  if  he  had 
squeezed  something  out  of  life,  I  should  own  that  he  had 
sense.  But  it  was  unpleasant  for  him.  It  is  really  a  foolish 
thing  to  persuade  one's  self,  before  death  comes,  that  wine 
is  vinegar.  But  I  look  at  matters  more  clearly,  and,  besides, 
I  have  been  far  more  sincere  with  myself.  Happen  what 
may,  I  am  almost  perfectly  in  order  with  God  and  with 
life." 

There  was  truth  in  this,  but  there  was  also  illusion.  Pan 
Stanislav  was  not  in  order  with  his  own  wife.  He  judged 
that  if  he  gave  her  protection,  bread,  good  treatment,  and 
put  kisses  on  her  lips  from  time  to  time,  he  was  discharging 
all  possible  duties  assumed  with  regard  to  her.  Meanwhile 
their  relations  began  to  be  more  definitely  of  this  sort,— that 
he  only  deigned  to  love  and  receive  love.  In  the  course  of 
his  observations  of  life  this  strange  phenomenon  had  struck 
him  more  than  once,  —  that  when,  for  example,  a  man  well- 
known  for  honor  does  some  noble  deed,  people  wave  their 
hands  as  if  with  a  certain  indifference,  saying,  "  OJ'  *oat 

is  Pan  X ;  from  him  this  is  perfectly  natural !      When, 

however,  some  rogue  chanced  to  do  something  honorable, 
these  same  people  said  with  great  recognition,  "Biit  there 
is  something  in  the  man."  A  hundred  times  Pan  Stanislav 
observed  that  a  copper  from  a  miser  made  more  impression 


834  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

than  a  ducat  from  a  generous  giver.  He  did  not  notice, 
however,  that  with  Marynia  he  followed  the  same  method 
of  judgment  and  recognition.  She  gave  him  all  her  being, 
all  her  soul.  "  Ah,  Marynia !  that  is  natural ! "  and  he 
waved  his  hand  too.  Had  her  love  not  been  so  generous,  had 
it  come  to  him  with  supreme  difficulty,  with  the  conviction 
that  it  was  a  treasure,  and  given  as  such,  with  the  con- 
viction that  she  was  a  divinity  demanding  a  bowed  head  and 
honor,  Pan  Stanislav  would  have  received  it  with  a  bowed 
head,  and  would  have  rendered  the  honor.  Such  is  the 
general  human  heart ;  and  only  the  choicest  natures,  woven 
from  rays,  have  power  to  rise  above  this  level.  Marynia 
had  given  Pan  Stanislav  her  love  as  his  right.  She  con- 
sidered his  love  as  happiness,  and  he  gave  it  as  happiness ; 
he  felt  himself  the  idol  on  the  altar.  One  ray  of  his  fell  on 
the  heart  of  the  woman  and  illumined  it :  the  divinity 
kept  the  rest  of  the  rays  for  itself ;  taking  all,  it  gave  only  a 
part.  In  his  love  there  was  not  that  fear  which  flows  from 
honor,  and  there  was  not  that  which  in  every  fondling  says 
to  the  woman  beloved,  "  at  thy  feet." 

But  they  did  not  understand  this  yet,  either  of  them. 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  336 


CHAPTER  XXXVir. 

"  I  DO  not  ask  if  thou  art  happy,"  said  Bigiel  to  Pan 
Stanislav  after  his  return  to  Warsaw  ;  *'  with  such  a  person 
as  tliy  wife  it  is  not  possible  to  be  unhappy." 

" True,"  answered  Pan  Stanislav;  "Marynia  is  such  an 
honest  little  woman  that  it  would  be  hard  to  find  a  better." 
Then,  turning  to  Pani  Bigiel,  he  said,  — 

"  We  are  both  happy,  and  it  cannot  be  otherwise.  You 
remember,  dear  lady,  our  former  conversations  about  love 
and  marriage  ?  You  remember  how  I  feared  to  meet  a 
woman  wlio  would  try  to  hide  the  world  from  her  husband 
with  herself,  to  occupy  all  his  thoughts,  all  his  feelings,  to 
be  the  single  object  of  his  life  ?  You  remember  how  I 
proved  to  you  and  Pani  Emilia  that  love  for  a  woman  could 
not  and  should  not  in  any  case  be  for  a  man  everything ;  that 
beyond  it  there  are  other  questions  in  the  world  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  but  I  remember  also  how  I  told  you  that  domestic 
occupations  do  not  hinder  me  in  any  way  from  loving  my 
children;  for  I  know  in  some  fashion,  as  it  seems  to  me, 
that  these  things  are  not  like  boxes,  for  example,  of  which, 
when  you  have  put  a  certain  number  on  a  table,  there  is  no 
room  for  others." 

"My  wife  is  right  now,"  said  Bigiel.  "I  have  noticed 
that  people  often  deceive  themselves  when  they  transfer 
feelings  or  ideas  into  material  conditions.  When  it  is  a 
question  of  feelings  or  ideas,  space  is  not  to  be  considered." 

"Oh,  stop!  Thou  art  conquered  to  the  country,"  said 
Pan  Stanislav,  humorously. 

"But  if  the  position  is  pleasant  for  me?"  said  Bigiel, 
promptly.     "Moreover,  thou,  too,  wilt  be  conquered." 

"  I  ?  " 

"Yes;  with  honesty,  kindness,  and  heart." 

"That  is  something  different.  It  is  possible  to  be  con- 
quered, and  not  be  a  slipper.  Do  not  hinder  me  in  prais- 
ing Marynia;  I  have  succeeded  in  a  way  that  could  not  be 
improved,  and  specially  for  this  reason, — that  she  is 
satisfied  with  the  feeling  which  I  have  for  her,  and  has  no 
wish  to  be  my  exclusive  idol.  For  this  I  love  her.  God 
has  guarded  me  from  a  wife  demanding  devotion  of  the 


336  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

whole  soul,  whole  miud,  whole  existence;  and  I  thank 
Him  sincerely,  since  I  could  not  endure  such  a  woman.  I 
understand  more  easily  that  all  may  be  given  of  free  will, 
and  when  not  demanded." 

"Believe  me,  Pan  Stanislav,"  answered  Pani  Bigiel, 
''that  in  this  regard  we  are  all  equally  demanding;  but  at 
first  we  take  frequently  that  part  for  the  whole  which  they 
give  us,  and  then  —  " 

"And  then  what?"  interrupted  Pan  Stanislav,  rather 
jokingly. 

"  Then  those  who  have  real  honesty  in  their  hearts  attain 
to  something  which  for  you  is  a  word  without  meaning, 
but  for  us  is  often  life's  basis." 

"What  kind  of  talisman  is  that?" 

"Resignation." 

Pan  Stanislav  laughed,  and  added,  "The  late  Bukatski 
used  to  say  that  women  put  on  resignation  frequently,  as 
they  do  a  hat,  because  it  becomes  them.  A  resignation 
hat,  a  veil  of  light  melancholy, — are  they  ugly?" 

"Ko,  not  ugly.  Sa}^  what  you  please;  they  may  be  a 
dress,  but  in  such  a  dress  it  is  easier  to  reach  heaven  than 
in  another." 

"  Then  my  Marynia  is  condemned  to  hell,  for  she  will 
never  wear  that  dress,  I  think.  But  you  will  see  her  in  a 
moment,  for  she  promised  to  come  here  after  office  hours. 
She  is  late,  the  loiterer;  she  ought  to  be  here  now." 

"Her  father  is  detaining  her,  I  suppose.  But  you  will 
stay  to  dine  with  us,  will  3'ou  not?" 

"  We  will  stay  to  dine.     Agreed." 

"  And  some  one  else  has  promised  us  to-day,  so  the  soci- 
ety will  only  be  increased.  I  will  go  now  to  tell  them  to 
prepare  places  for  you." 

Pani  Bigiel  went  out;  but  Pan  Stanislav  asked  Bigiel,  — 

"  Whom  hast  thou  at  dinner?  " 

"  Zavilovski,  the  future  letter-writer  of  our  house." 

"Who  is  he?" 

"That  poet  already  famous." 

"From  Parnassus  to  the  desk?     How  is  that?" 

"  I  do  not  remember,  now,  who  said  that  society  keeps  its 
geniuses  on  diet.  People  say  that  tliis  man  is  immensely 
capable,  but  he  cannot  earn  bread  with  verses.  Our 
Tsiskovski  went  to  the  insurance  company;  his  place  was 
left  vacant,  and  Zavilovski  applied.  I  had  some  scruples, 
but  he  told  me  that  for  him  this  place  was  a  question  of 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  337 

bread,  and  the  chance  of  working.  Besides,  he  pleased  me, 
for  he  told  me  at  once  that  he  writes  in  three  languages, 
but  speaks  well  in  none  of  them ;  and  second,  that  he  has 
not  the  least  conception  of  mercantile  correspondence." 

''Oh,  that  is  nonsense,"  answered  Pan  Stanislav;  "he 
will  learn  in  a  week.  But  will  he  keep  the  place  long, 
and  will  not  the  correspondence  be  neglected?  Business 
with  a  poet !  " 

"  If  he  is  not  right,  we  will  part.  But  when  he  applied, 
I  chose  to  give  the  place  to  him.  In  three  days  he  is  to 
begin.  Meanwhile,  I  have  advainced  a  month's  salary;  he 
needed  it." 

"Was  he  destitute?" 

"  It  seems  so.  There  is  an  old  Zavilovski,  —  that  one 
who  has  a  daughter,  a  very  wealthy  man.  I  asked  our 
Zavilovski  if  that  was  a  relative  of  his;  he  said  not,  but 
blushed,  so  I  think  that  the  old  man  is  his  relative.  But 
how  it  is  with  us?  A  balance  in  nothing.  Some  deny 
relationship  because  they  are  poor;  others,  because  they 
are  rich.  All  through  some  fancy,  and  because  of  that 
rascally  pride.  But  he'll  please  thee;  he  pleased  my 
wife." 

"  Who  pleased  thy  wife?"  asked  Pani  Bigiel,  coming  in. 

"Zavilovski." 

"  For  I  read  his  beautiful  verses  entitled,  '  On  the  Thresh- 
old.' At  the  same  time  he  looks  as  if  he  were  hiding 
something  from  people." 

"He  is  hiding  poverty,  or  rather,  poverty  was  hiding 
him." 

"  No ;  he  looks  as  if  he  had  passed  through  some  severe 
disappointment. " 

"  Thou  wert  able  to  see  in  him  a  romance,  and  to  tell  me 
that  he  had  suffered  much.  Thou  wert  offended  when  I 
put  forth  the  hypothesis  that  it  might  be  from  worms  in 
childhood,  or  scald-head.  That  was  not  poetical  enough 
for  her." 

Pan  Stanislav  looked  at  his  watch,  and  was  a  little 
impatient. 

"Marynia  is  not  coming,"  said  he;  "what  a  loiterer! " 

But  the  "  loiterer  "  came  at  that  moment,  or  rather,  drove 
up.  The  greeting  was  not  effusive,  for  she  had  seen  the 
Bigiels  at  the  railway.  Pan  Stanislav  told  his  wife  that 
they  would  stay  to  dine,  to  which  she  agreed  willingly, 

22 


338  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

and  fell  to  greeting  the  children,  who  rushed  into  the  room 
in  a  swarm. 

Now  caine  Zavilovski,  whom  Bigiel  presented  to  Pan 
Stanislav  and  Marynia.  He  was  a  man  still  young,  — about 
seven  or  eight  and  twenty.  Pan  Stanislav,  looking  at  him, 
considered  that  in  every  case  his  mien  was  not  that  of  a 
man  who  had  suffered  much;  he  was  merely  ill  at  ease  in 
a  society  with  which  he  was  more  than  half  unacquainted. 
He  had  a  nervous  face,  and  a  chin  projecting  prominently, 
like  Wagner's,  gladsome  gray  eyes,  and  a  very  delicate 
forehead,  Avhiter  than  the  rest  of  his  face;  on  his  forehead 
large  veins  formed  the  letter  Y.  He  was,  besides,  rather 
tall  and  somewhat  awkward. 

"I  have  heard,"  said  Pan  Stanislav  to  him,  "that  in 
three  days  you  will  be  our  associate," 

"Yes,  Pan  Principal,"  answered  the  young  man;  "or 
rather,  I  shall  serve  in  the  office." 

"But  give  peace  to  the  'principal,' "  said  Pan  Stanislav, 
laughing.  "  With  us  it  is  not  the  custom  to  use  the  words 
'grace,'  or  'principal '  unless  perchance  such  a  title  would 
please  my  wife  by  giving  her  importance  in  her  own  eyes. 
But  listen,  Pani  Principaless, "  said  he,  turning  to  Marynia, 
"  would  it  please  thee  to  be  called  principaless  ?  It  would 
be  a  new  amusement." 

Zavilovski  was  confused;  but  he  laughed  too,  when 
Marynia  answered,  — 

"No;  for  it  seems  to  me  that  a  principaless  ought  to 
wear  an  enormous  cap  like  this  "  (here  she  showed  with 
her  hands  how  big),  "and  I  cannot  endure  caps," 

It  grew  pleasanter  for  Zavilovski  in  the  joyous  kindness 
of  those  people;  but  he  was  confused  again  when  Marynia 
said,  — 

"  You  are  an  old  acquaintance  of  mine.  I  have  read  noth- 
ing of  late,  for  we  have  just  returned  home;  has  anything 
appeared  while  we  were  gone?" 

"No,  Pani,"  answered  he;  ".I  occupy  myself  with  that 
as  Pan  Bigiel  does  with  music,  —  in  free  moments,  and  for 
my  own  amusement." 

"I  do  not  believe  this,"  said  Marynia. 

And  she  was  right  not  to  believe,  for  it  was  not  true  at 
all.  Zavilovksi's  reply  was  lacking  also  in  candor,  for  he 
wished  to  let  it  be  known  that  he  desired  beyond  all  to 
pass  as  the  correspondent  of  a  commercial  house,  and  to  be 
considered  an  employee,  not  a  poet.     He  gave  a  title  to 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  339 

Bigiel  and  Pan  Stanislav,  not  through  any  feeling  of 
inferiority,  but  to  show  that  when  he  had  undertaken  office, 
work  he  considered  it  as  good  as  any  other,  that  he  accom- 
modated himself  to  his  position ,  and  would  do  so  in  the 
future.  There  was  in  this  also  something  else,  Zavilovski, 
though  young,  had  observed  how  ridiculous  people  are,' 
who,  when  they  have  written  one  or  two  little  poems,  pose 
as  seers,  and  insist  on  being  considered  such.  His  great 
self-esteem  trembled  before  the  fear  of  the  ridiculous; 
hence  he  fell  into  the  opposite  extreme,  and  was  almost 
ashamed  of  his  poetry.  Kecently,  when  suffering  great 
want,  this  feeling  became  almost  a  deformity,  and  the  least 
reference  by  any  one  to  the  fact  that  he  was  a  poet  brought 
him  to  suppressed  anger. 

But  meanwhile  he  felt  that  he  was  illogical,  since  for 
him  the  simplest  thing  would  have  been  not  to  write  and 
publish  poems;  but  he  could  not  refrain.  His  head  was 
not  surrounded  with  an  aureole  yet,  but  a  few  gleams  had 
touched  it;  these  illuminated  his  forehead  at  one  moment, 
and  then  died,  in  proportion  as  he  created,  or  neglected. 
After  each  new  poem  the  gleam  began  again  to  quiver;  and 
Zavilovski,  as  capable  as  he  was  ambitious,  valued  in  his 
heart  those  reflections  of  glory  more  than  aught  else  on 
earth.  But  he  wanted  people  to  talk  of  him  only  among 
themselves,  and  not  to  his  eyes.  When  he  felt  that  they 
were  beginning  to  forget  him,  he  suffered  secretly.  There 
was  in  him,  as  it  were,  a  dualism  of  self-love,  which 
wanted  glory,  and  at  the  same  time  rejected  it  through  a 
certain  shyness  and  pride,  lest  some  one  might  say  that  too 
much  had  been  given.  And  many  contradictions  besides 
inhered  in  him,  as  a  man  young  and  impressionable,  who 
takes  in  and  feels  exceptionally,  and  who,  amidst  his  feel- 
ings, is  not  able  frequently  to  distinguish  his  own  personal 
I.  For  this  reason  it  is  that  artists  in  general  seem  often 
unnatural. 

Now  came  dinner,  during  which  conversation  turned  on 
Italy,  and  people  whom  the  Polanyetskis  had  met  there. 
Pan  Stanislav  spoke  of  Bukatski  and  his  last  moments, 
and  also  of  the  dead  man's  will,  by  which  he  became  the 
heir  to  a  fairly  large  sum  of  money.  By  far  the  greater 
part  was  to  be  used  for  public  objects,  and  touching  this 
he  had  to  confer  witli  Bigiel.  They  loved  Bukatski,  and 
remembered  him  with  sympathy.  Pani  Bigiel  had  even 
tears  in  lier  eyes  when  Marynia  stated  that  before  death 


340  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

he  had  confessed ;  and  that  he  died  like  a  Christian.  But 
this  sympathy  was  of  the  kind  that  one  might  eat  dinner 
with;  and  if  Bukatski  had,  in  truth,  sighed  sometimes  for 
Nirvana,  he  had  what  he  wanted  at  present,  since  he  had 
become  for  people,  even  those  near  him,  and  who  loved 
him,  a  memory  as  slight  as  it  was  unenduring.  A  week 
lon<^er,  a  month,  or  a  year,  and  his  name  would  be  a  sound 
without  an  echo.  He  had  not  earned,  in  fact,  the  deep 
love  of  any  one,  and  had  not  received  it;  his  life  flowed 
away  from  him  in  such  fashion  that  after  even  a  child 
like  Litka,  there  remained  not  only  a  hundred  times  more 
sorrow,  but  also  love  and  memorable  traces.  His  life  roused 
at  first  the  curiosity  of  Zavilovski,  who  had  not  known 
him ;  but  when  he  had  heard  all  that  Pan  Stanislav  narrated, 
he  said,  after  thinking  a  while,  "An  additional  copy." 
Bukatski,  who  joked  at  everything,  would  have  been  pained 
by  such  an  epitaph. 

Marynia,  wishing  to  give  a  more  cheerful  turn  to  con- 
versation, began  to  tell  of  the  excursions  they  had  made  in 
Rome  and  the  environs,  either  alone,  with  Svirski,  or  the 
Osnovskis.  Bigiel,  who  was  a  classmate  of  Osnovski,  and 
who  from  time  to  time  saw  him  yet,  said, — 

"He  has  one  love,  —  his  wife;  and  one  hatred,  —  his 
corpulence,  or  rather,  his  inclination  to  it.  As  to  other 
things,  he  is  the  best  man  on  earth." 

"But  he  seems  quite  slender,"  said  Marynia. 

"  Two  years  ago  he  was  almost  fat ;  but  since  he  began 
to  use  a  bicycle,  fence,  follow  the  Banting  system,  drink 
Karlsbad  in  summer,  and  ^o  in  winter  to  Italy  or  Egypt 
to  perspire,  he  has  made  himself  slender  again.  But  1 
have  not  said  truly  that  he  has  a  hatred  for  corpulence ;  it 
is  his  wife  who  has,  and  he  does  this  through  regard  for 
her.  He  dances  whole  nights,  too,  at  balls,  for  the  same 
reason." 

"  He  is  a  sclavus  saltans,"  said  Pan  Stanislav.  "  Svirski 
has  told  us  of  this  already." 

"I  understand  that  it  is  possible  to  love  a  wife,"  said 
Bigiel;  "it  is  possible  to  consider  her,  according  to  the 
saying,  as  the  apple  of  the  eye.  Very  well!  But,  as  I 
love  God,  I  have  heard  that  he  writes  verses  to  his  wife; 
that  he  opens  books  with  his  eyes  closed,  marks  a  verse 
with  his  finger,  and  divines  to  himself  from  what  he  reads 
whether  he  is  loved.  If  it  comes  out  badly,  he  falls  into 
paelancholy.     He  is  in  love  like  a  student,  — counts  all  her 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  341 

glances,  strives  to  'divine  what  this  or  that  word  is  to 
mean,  kisses  not  only  her  feet  and  hands,  but  when  he 
thinks  that  no  one  is  looking,  he  kisses  her  gloves.  God 
knows  what  it  is  like!  and  that  for  whole  years." 

"  How  much  in  love !  "  said  Marynia. 

"Would  it  be  to  thy  liking  were  I  such?"  asked  Pan 
Stanislav. 

She  thought  a  while,  and  answered,  "No;  for  in  that 
case  thou  wouldst  be  another  man." 

"Oh,  that  is  a  Machiavelli,"  said  Bigiel.  "It  would  be 
worth  while  to  write  down  such  an  answer,  for  that  is  at 
once  a  praise,  and  somewhat  of  a  criticism,  —  a  testimony 
that  as  it  is,  is  best,  and  that  it  would  be  possible  to  wish 
for  something  still  better.     Manage  this  for  thyself,  man." 

"I  take  it  for  praise,"  said  Pan  Stanislav,  "though  you" 
(here  he  turned  to  Pani  Bigiel),  "  will  say  surely  that  it  is 
resignation." 

"The  outside  is  love,"  answered  Pani  Bigiel,  laughing; 
"resignation  may  come  in  time,  as  lining,  if  cold  comes." 

Zavilovski  looked  on  Marynia  with  curiosity;  she  seemed 
to  him  comely,  sympathetic,  and  her  answer  arrested  his 
.  attention.  He  thought,  however,  that  only  a  woman  could 
speak  so  who  was  greatly  in  love,  and  one  for  whom  there 
was  never  enough  of  feeling.  He  began  to  look  at  Pan 
Stanislav  with  a  certain  jealousy;  and  because  he  was  a 
great  hermit,  the  words  of  the  song  came  at  once  to  his 
head,  "^ly  neighbor  has  a  darling  wife." 

Meanwhile,  since  he  had  been  silent  a  whole  hour,  or 
had  spoken  a  couple  of  words  merely,  it  seemed  to  him 
that  he  ought  to  engage  in  the  conversation  somehow.  But 
timidity  restrained  him,  and,  besides,  a  toothache,  which, 
when  the  sharpest  pain  had  passed,  was  felt  yet  at  moments 
acutely  enough.  This  pain  had  taken  all  his  courage;  but 
he  rallied  finally,  and  asked,  — 

"But  Pani  Osnovski?" 

"Pani  Osnovski,"  said  Pan  Stanislav,  "has  a  husband 
who  loves  for  two;  therefore  she  has  no  need  to  fatigue 
herself,  so  Svirski,  at  least,  insists.  She  has  Chinese  eyes; 
she  is  Aneta  by  name;  has  filling  in  her  upper  teeth,  which 
is  visible  when  she  laughs  much,  therefore  she  prefers  to 
smile;  in  general,  she  is  like  a  turtle-dove,  — she  turns  in 
a  circle,  and  cries,  '  Sugar!  sugar! '  " 

"That  is  a  malicious  man,"  said  Marynia.  "She  is 
beautiful,    lively,   witty;   and  Pan   Svirski    cannot  know 


342  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

how  much  she  loves  lier  husband,  for  surely  he  hasu't 
mentioned  the  matter  to  her.  All  these  are  simply 
suppositious." 

Tan  Stanislav  thought  two  things :  first,  that  they  were 
not  suppositious ;  and  second,  that  he  had  a  wife  who  was 
as  naive  as  she  was  honest. 

But  Zavilovski  said,  — 

*'  I  am  curious  to  know  what  would  happen  were  she  as 
much  in  love  with  him  as  he  is  with  her." 

"  It  would  be  the  greatest  double  egotism  that  the  world 
has  ever  witnessed,"  said  Pan  Stanislav.  "They  would  be 
so  occupied  with  each  other  that  they  would  see  no  other 
thing  or  person  on  earth." 

Zavilovski  smiled,  and  said,  "Light  does  not  prevent 
heat;  it  produces  it." 

"  Taking  matters  strictly,  that  is  rather  a  poetical  than  a 
physical  comparison,"  said  Pan  Stanislav. 

But  Zavilovski's  answer  pleased  the  two  ladies,  so  both 
supported  him  ardently  ;  and  when  Bigiel  joined  them.  Pan 
Stanislav  was  outvoted. 

After  that  they  talked  of  Mashko  and  his  wife.  Bigiel 
said  that  Mashko  had  taken  up  an  immense  case  against 
Panna  Ploshovski's  million-ruble  will,  in  which  a  number 
of  rather  distant  heirs  appeared.  Pan  Playitski  had  written 
of  this  to  Marynia  while  she  was  in  Italy  ;  but,  considering 
the  whole  affair  such  an  illusion  as  were  aforetime  the  mil- 
lions resting  on  the  marl  of  Kremen,  she  barely  mentioned 
it  to  her  husband,  who  waved  his  hand  on  the  whole  question 
at  once.  Now,  as  Mashko  had  taken  up  the  affair,  it  seemed 
more  important.  Bigiel  supposed  that  there  must  be  some 
informality  in  the  will,  and  declared  that  if  Mashko  won, 
he  might  stand  on  his  feet  right  away,  for  he  had  stipulated 
an  immense  fee  for  himself.  The  wh|)le  affair  roused  Pan 
Stanislav's  curiosity  greatly.  ' 

"  But  Mashko  has  the  elasticity  of  a  cat,"  said  he ;  "  he 
always  falls  on  his  feet." 

"  And  this  time  thou  shouldst  pray  that  he  may  not  break 
his  back,"  answered  Bigiel ;  "  for  it  is  a  question  of  no 
small  amount,  both  for  thee  and  thy  father-in-law.  Ploshov 
alone  with  all  its  farms  is  valued  at  seven  hundred  thousand 
rubles  ;  and,  besides,  there  is  much  ready  money," 

"  That  would  be  wonderful,  such  unexpected  gain  !  "  said 
Pan  Stanislav. 

But  Marynia  heard  with  pain  that  her  father  had  indeed 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  343 

appeared  among  the  other  heirs  in  the  suit  against  the  will. 
"Stas  "  was  for  her  a  rich  man,  and  she  had  blind  faith  that 
he  could  make  millions  if  he  wished;  her  father  had  an  in- 
come, and,  besides,  she  had  given  him  the  life  annuity  from 
Magyerovka ;  hence  poverty  threatened  no  one.  It  would 
have  been  pleasant  indeed  for  her  to  be  able  to  buy  Kremen, 
and  take  "  Stas  "  there  in  summer,  but  not  for  money  got  in 
this  way. 

"I  am  only  pained  by  this,"  said  she,  with  great  anima- 
tion. "  That  money  was  bequeathed  so  honestly.  It  is  not 
right  to  change  the  will  of  the  dead ;  it  is  not  right  to  take 
bread  from  the  poor,  or  schools.  Panna  Ploshovski's 
brother's  son  shot  himself ;  it  may  have  been  for  her  a 
question  of  saving  his  soul,  of  gainmg  God's  mercy.  This 
breaking  of  the  will  is  not  right.  People  should  think  and 
feel  differently." 

She  grew  even  flushed  somewhat. 

"  How  determined  she  is ! "  said  Pan  Stanislav. 

But  she  pushed  forward  her  somewhat  too  wide  mouth,  and 
called  out  with  the  expression  of  a  pouting  child,  — 

"  But  say  that  I  am  right,  Stas ;  say  that  I  am  right.  'T  is 
thy  duty  to  say  so." 

"  Without  doubt,"  answered  Pan  Stanislav ;  "  but  Mashko 
may  win  the  case." 

"  I  wish  him  to  lose  it." 

"How  determined  she  is !  "  repeated  Pan  Stanislav. 

''  And  how  honest,  what  a  noble  nature  ! "  thought  Zavi- 
lovski,  framing  in  his  plastic  mind  conceptions  of  goodness 
and  nobility  in  the  form  of  a  woman  with  dark  hair,  blue 
eyes,  a  lithe  form,  and  mouth  a  trifle  too  wide. 

After  dinner  Bigiel  and  Pan  Stanislav  went  for  a  cigar 
and  black  coffee  to  the  office,  where  they  had  to  hold 
meanwhile  the  first  consultation  concerning  the  objects  for 
which  Bukatski's  property  had  been  bequeathed.  Zavi- 
lovski,  as  a  non-smoker,  remained  with  the  ladies  in  the 
drawing-room.  Then  Marynia,  who,  as  lady  principaless, 
felt  it  her  duty  to  give  courage  to  the  future  employee  of 
the  "  house,"  approached  him,  and  said,  — 

"  I,  as  well  as  Pani  Bigiel,  wisli  that  we  should  all 
consider  one  another  as  members  of  one  great  family; 
therefore  I  hope  that  you  will  count  us  too  as  your  good 
acquaintances." 

"  With  the  greatest  readiness,  if  you  permit  me,"  an- 
swered Zavilovski.  "  As  it  is,  I  would  have  testified  my 
respect." 


344  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

''  [  made  the  acquaintance  of  all  the  gentlemen  in  the 
office  only  at  my  wedding.  We  went  abroad  immediately 
after ;  but  now  it  will  come  to  a  nearer  acquaintance.  My 
husband  told  me  that  he  should  like  to  have  us  meet  one 
week  at  Pan  Bigiel's,  and  the  next  week  at  our  house.  This 
is  a  very  good  plan,  but  I  make  one  condition." 

"  What  is  that  ?  "  asked  Pani  Bigiel. 

"Not  to  speak  of  any  mercantile  matter  at  those  meet- 
ings. There  will  be  a  little  music,  for  I  hope  that  Pan 
Bigiel  will  attend  to  that ;  sometimes  we  '11  read  something, 
like  '  On  the  Threshold.'  " 

"Not  in  my  presence,"  said  Zavilovski,  with  a  forced 
smile. 

"  Why  not  ?  "  inquired  she,  looking  at  him  with  her  usual 
simplicity.  "We  have  spoken  of  you  more  than  once  in 
presence  of  people  really  friendly,  and  thought  of  you  be- 
fore it  came  to  an  acquaintance ;  and  why  should  we  not  all 
the  more  now  ?  " 

Zavilovski  felt  wonderfully  disarmed.  It  seemed  to  him 
that  he  had  fallen  among  exceptional  persons,  or  at  least 
that  Pani  Polanyetski  was  an  exceptional  woman.  The 
fear,which  burned  him  like  fire,  that  he  might  appear  ridicu- 
lous with  his  poetry,  his  over-long  neck,  and  his  pointed 
elbows,  began  to  decrease.  He  felt  in  a  manner  free  in  hec 
presence.  He  felt  that  she  said  nothing  for  the  mere  pur- 
pose of  talking,  or  for  social  reasons,  but  only  that  which 
flowed  from  her  kindness  and  sensitiveness.  At  the  same 
time  her  face  and  form  delighted  him,  as  they  had  delighted 
Svirski  in  Venice.  And  since  he  was  accustomed  to  seek 
forms  for  all  his  impressions,  he  began  to  seek  them  for  her 
too  ;  and  he  felt  that  they  ought  to  be  not  only  sincere,  but 
exquisite,  charming,  and  complete,  just  as  her  own  beauty 
was  exquisite  and  complete.  He  recognized  that  he  had  a 
theme,  and  the  artist  within  him  was  roused. 

She  began  now  to  ask  with  great  friendliness  about 
his  family  relations ;  fortunately  the  appearance  of  Bigiel 
and  Pan  Stanislav  in  the  drawing-room  freed  him  from 
more  positive  answers,  which  would  have  been  disagreeable. 
His  father  had  been  a  noted  gambler  and  roisterer  on  a 
time,  and  for  a  number  of  years  had  been  suffering  in  an 
institution  for  the  insane. 

Music  was  to  interrupt  that  dangerous  conversation.  Pan 
Stanislav  had  finished  the  discussion  with  Bigiel,  who 
said,  — 


CHILDREN  OF  THE   SOIL.  345 

"That  seems  to  me  a  perfect  project,  but  it  is  necessary 
to  think  the  matter  over  yet." 

Then,  leaning  on  his  violin,  he  began  to  meditate  really, 
and  said  at  last,  — 

"A  wonderful  thing !  When  I  play,  it  is  as  if  there  were 
nothing  else  in  my  head,  but  that  is  not  true.  A  certain 
part  of  my  brain  is  occupied  with  other  things ;  and  it  is 
exactly  then  that  the  best  thoughts  come  to  me." 

Saying  this,  he  sat  down,  took  the  violoncello  between  his 
knees,  closed  his  eyes,  and  began  the  "Spring  Song." 

Zavilovski  went  home  that  day  enchanted  with  the  people 
and  their  simplicity,  with  the  "  Spring  Song,"  and  especially 
with  Pani  Polanyetski. 

She  did  not  even  suspect  that  in  time  she  might  enrich 
poetry  with  a  new  thrill. 


346  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 

The  Mashkos  visited  the  Polanyetskis  in  a  week  after 
their  return.  She,  in  a  gray  robe,  trimmed  with  marabout 
feathers  of  the  same  color,  looked  better  than  ever  before. 
Inflammation  of  the  eyes,  from  which  she  had  suffered 
formerly,  had  disappeared.  Her  face  had  its  usual  indif- 
ferent, almost  dreamy  mildness,  but  at  present  this  only 
enhanced  her  artistic  expression.  The  former  Panna  Kras- 
lavski  was  about  five  years  older  than  Marynia;  and 
before  marriage  the  lady  looked  still  older,  but  now  it 
seemed  as  if  she  had  grown  young.  Her  slender  form, 
really  very  graceful,  was  outlined  in  a  closely  fitting  dress 
as  firmly  as  a  child's  form.  It  was  strange  that  Pan  Stan- 
islav,  who  did  not  like  the  lady,  found  in  her  something 
attractive,  and  whenever  he  looked  at  her  said  to  himself, 
"But  there  is  something  in  her."  Even  her  monotonous 
and  somewhat  childlike  voice  had  a  certain  charm  for  him. 
At  present  he  said  to  himself  plainly  that  she  looked  ex- 
ceptionally charming,  and  had  improved  more  than  Marynia. 

Mashko,  on  his  part,  had  unfolded  like  a  sunflower.  Dis- 
tinction was  just  beaming  from  him;  and  at  her  side  self- 
confidence  and  pride  were  softened  by  affabilit3^  It  seemed 
impossible  that  he  could  visit  all  his  lands  within  one  day, 
—  in  a  word,  he  pretended  more  than  ever.  But  he  did  not 
pretend  love  for  his  wafe,  since  it  was  evident  from  every 
look  of  his  that  he  felt  it  really.  In  truth,  it  would  have 
been  difficult  to  find  a  woman  who  could  answer  better  to 
his  idea  of  refinement,  good  taste,  and  the  elegance  of  high 
society.  Her  indifference,  her,  as  it  were,  frozen  manner 
with  people,  he  considered  as  something  simply  unapproach- 
able. She  never  lost  this  "  distinction  "  at  any  time,  even 
when  she  was  alone  with  him.  And  he,  as  a  genuine  par- 
venu who  had  won  a  princess,  loved  her  precisely  because 
she  seemed  a  princess,  and  because  he  possessed  her. 

Marynia  inquired  where  they  had  passed  the  honey- 
moon. Pani  Mashko  answered  on  "  my  husband's  estate," 
in  such  a  tone  as  if  that  "  husband's  estate  "  had  been  en- 
tailed during  twenty  generations  ;  wherewith  she  added  that 
they  were  not  going  abroad  till  next  year,  when  her  hus- 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  347 

baud  would  finish  certain  affairs.  Meanwhile  they  would  go 
again  to  her  '<  liusband's  estate  "  for  the  summer  months. 

''  Do  you  like  the  country  ?  "  inquired  Marynia. 

"  Mamma  likes  the  country,"  answered  Pani  Mashko. 

"  And  does  Kremen  please  your  mamma  ?  " 

"  Yes.  But  the  windows  in  the  house  are  like  those  in  a 
conservatory.     So  many  panes  !  " 

"That  is  somewhat  needed,"  said  Marynia;  "for  when 
one  of  those  panes  is  broken,  any  glazier  of  the  place  can 
put  in  a  new  one,  but  for  large  panes  it  would  be  necessary 
to  send  to  AVarsaw." 

"  My  husband  says  that  he  will  build  a  new  house." 

Marynia  sighs  in  secret,  and  the  conversation  is  changed. 
Now  they  talk  of  mutual  acquaintances.  It  appears  that 
Pani  Mashko  had  taken  lessons  in  dancing  once,  together 
with  "  Anetka "  Osnovski  and  her  young  relative,  Lineta 
Castelli ;  that  they  are  well  acquainted  ;  that  Lineta  is  more 
beautiful  than  Anetka,  and,  besides,  paints,  and  has  a  whole 
album  of  her  own  poems.  Pani  Mashko  has  heard  that 
Anetka  has  returned  already  and  that  Lineta  is  to  live  in 
the  same  villa  till  June  together  with  her  aunt  Bronich, 
"  and  that  will  be  very  pleasant,  for  they  are  so  nice." 

Pan  Stanislav  and  IVIasliko  make  their  way  to  the  ad- 
joining room,  and  talk  over  Panna  Ploshovski's  will. 

"  I  can  inform  thee  tliat  I  have  sailed  out  very  nearly," 
said  Mashko.  "  I  was  almost  over  the  precipice ;  but  that 
action  put  me  on  my  feet,  by  this  alone,  that  I  began  it. 
For  years  there  has  not  been  such  a  one.  The  question  is 
one  of  millions.  Ploshovski  himself  was  richer  than  his 
aunt;  and  before  he  shot  himself,  he  willed  his  property  to 
Pani  Krovitski's  mother,  and  when  she  did  n't  accept  it,  the 
whole  fortune  went  to  old  Panna  Ploshovski.  Thou  wilt 
understand  now  how  much  property  the  woman  must  have 
'eft." 

"Bigiel  mentioned  something  like  seven  hundred  thou- 
sand rubles." 

"Tell  thy  Bigiel,  since  he  has  siTch  love  for  giving 
rigures,  that  it  is  more  tlian  twice  that  amount.  Well,  in 
justice  it  should  be  said  that  I  have  strengtli  to  save  my- 
self, and  that  it  is  easier  to  throw  me  into  water  than  to 
drown  me.  But  I  will  tell  thee  something  personal.  Know- 
est  tliou  whom  I  have  to  thank  for  this  ?  Thy  father-in- 
law.  Once  he  mentioned  the  affair  to  me,  but  I  waved  my 
hand  at  it.     Afterward  I  fell  into  the  troubles  of  which  I 


348  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

wrote  thee.  I  had  a  knife  at  my  throat.  Well,  three 
weeks  since  I  chanced  to  meet  Pan  Plavitski,  who  men- 
tioned among  other  persons  Panna  Ploshovski,  and  in- 
vented against  her  all  that  he  could  utter.  Suddenly  I 
slap  my  forehead.  What  have  I  to  lose  ?  Nothing.  I 
ask  Vyshynski,  clerk  of  the  court,  to  bring  the  will  to  me. 
I  find  informalities,  —  small  ones,  but  they  are  there.  In  a 
week  I  have  power  of  attorney  from  the  heirs,  and  begin  an 
action.  And  what  shall  I  say  ?  At  a  mere  report  of  the  fee 
which  I  am  to  get  in  case  of  success,  confidence  returns 
to  people,  patience  returns  to  my  creditors,  credit  returns 
to  me,  and  I  am  firm.  Dost  remember  ?  there  was  a 
moment  when  I  was  lowering  my  tone,  when  through  my 
head  were  passing  village  ideas  of  living  by  an  ant-like  in- 
dustry, of  limiting  my  style  of  living.  Folly  !  That  is  diffi- 
cult, my  dear.  Thou  hast  reproached  me  because  I  pre- 
tend ;  but  with  us  pretence  is  needful.  To-day  I  must  give 
myself  out  as  a  man  who  is  as  sure  of  his  property  as  he  is 
of  victory." 

"  Tell  me  sincerely,  is  this  a  good  case  ?" 

''  How  a  good  case  ?  " 

"  Simply  will  it  not  be  needful  to  pull  the  matter  too 
much  by  the  ears  against  justice  ?  " 

"Thou  must  know  that  in  every  case  there  is  something 
to  be  said  in  its  favor,  and  the  honor  of  an  advocate  con- 
sists just  in  saying  this  something.  In  the  present  case 
the  special  questions  are,  who  are  to  inherit,  and  is  the  will 
so  drawn  as  to  stand  in  law  ;  and  it  was  not  I  who  made 
the  law." 

"  Then  thou  hast  hopes  of  gaining  ?  " 

"When  it  is  a  question  of  breaking  a  will,  there  are 
chances  almost  always,  because  generally  the  attack  is  con- 
ducted with  a  hundred  times  more  energy  than  is  the 
defence.  Who  will  defend  against  me  ?  Institutions;  that 
is,  bodies  unwieldy  by  nature,  of  small  self-help,  whose 
representatives  have  no  personal  interest  in  the  defence. 
They  will  find  an  advocate ;  well !  but  what  will  they  give 
him,  what  can  they  give  him  ?  As  much  as  is  allowed  by 
law;  now  that  advocate  will  have  more  chances  of  profit 
in  case  I  win,  for  that  may  depend  on  a  personal  bargain 
between  him  and  me.  In  general,  I  tell  thee  that  in  legal 
actions,  as  in  life,  the  side  wins  which  has  the  greater  wish 
to  win." 

"But  public  opinion  will  grind  thee  into  bran,  if  thou 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  349 

break  such   wills.     My  wife  is  interested  a  little,  thou 
seest." 

"  How  a  little  ?  "  interrupted  Mashko.  "  I  shall  be  a 
genuine  benefactor  to  both  of  you." 

"  Well,  my  wife  is  indignant,  and  opposed  to  the  whole 
action." 

"  Thy  wife  is  an  exception." 

"ISTot  altogether;  it  is  not  to  my  taste  either." 

"  What 's  this  ?  Have  they  made  thee  a  sentimentalist 
also  ?  " 

"  My  dear  friend,  we  have  known  each  other  a  long  time ; 
use  that  language  with  some  other  man," 

"  Well,  I  will  talk  of  opinions  only.  To  begin  with,  I 
tell  thee  that  a  certain  unpopularity  for  a  man  genuinely 
comme  il  faut  rather  helps  than  harms  him;  second,  it 
is  necessary  to  understand  those  matters.  People  would 
grind  me  into  bran,  as  thou  hast  said,  should  I  lose  the 
case ;  but  if  I  win,  I  shall  be  considered  a  strong  head  — 
and  I  shall  win." 

After  a  while  he  continued,  "And  from  an  economical 
point  of  view,  what  is  the  question?  The  money  will 
remain  in  the  country ;  and,  as  God  lives,  I  do  not  know 
that  it  will  be  put  to  worse  use.  By  aid  of  it  a  number 
of  sickly  children  might  be  reared  to  imbecility  and  help 
dwarf  the  race,  or  a  number  of  seamstresses  might  get 
sewing-machines,  or  a  number  of  tens  of  old  men  and 
women  live  a  couple  of  years  longer;  not  much  good  could 
come  to  the  country  of  that.  Those  are  objects  quite 
unproductive.  We  should  study  political  economy  some 
time.  Finally,  I  will  say  in  brief,  that  I  had  the  knife  at 
my  throat.  My  first  duty  is  to  secure  life  to  myself,  my 
wife,  and  my  coming  family.  If  thou  art  ever  in  such  a 
position  as  I  was,  thou  'It  understand  me.  I  chose  to  sail 
out  rather  than  drown ;  and  such  a  right  every  man  has. 
My  wife,  as  I  wrote  thee,  has  a  considerable  income,  but 
almost  no  property,  or,  at  least,  not  much;  besides,  from 
that  income  she  allows  something  to  her  father.  I  have 
increased  the  allowance,  for  he  threatened  to  come  here, 
and  I  did  n't  want  that." 

"  So  thou  art  sure,  then,  that  Pan  Kraslavski  exists? 
Thou  hast  mentioned  him,  I  remember." 

"  I  have ;  and  for  that  very  reason  I  make  no  secret  of 
the  matter  now.  Besides,  I  know  that  people  talk  to 
the  prejudice  of  my  father-in-law  and  my  wife,  that  they 


350  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

relate  God  knows  what;  hence  I  prefer  to  tell  thee,  as  a 
friend,  how  things  are.  Pan  Kraslavski  lives  in  Bordeaux. 
He  was  an  agent  in  selling  sardines,  and  was  earning  good 
money,  but  he  lost  the  position,  for  he  took  to  drinking, 
and  drinks  absinthe;  besides,  he  has  created  an  illegal 
family.  Those  ladies  send  him  three  thousand  francs 
yearly;  but  that  sum  does  not  suffice  him,  and,  between 
remittance  and  remittance,  need  pinches  the  man.  Because 
of  this  he  drinks  more,  and  torments  those  poor  women 
with  letters,  threatening  to  publish  in  newspapers  how 
they  maltreat  him;  and  they  treat  him  better  than  he 
deserves.  He  wrote  to  me,  too,  immediately  after  my 
marriage,  begging  me  to  increase  his  allowance  a  thousand 
francs.  Of  course  he  informs  me  that  those  women  have 
'eaten  him  up;'  that  he  has  n't  had  a  copper's  worth  of 
happiness  in  life;  that  their  selfishness  has  gnawed  him, 
and  warns  me  against  them."  Here  Mashko  laughed. 
"But  the  beast  has  a  nobleman's  courage.  Once,  from 
want,  he  was  going  to  sell  handbills  in  the  corridor  of  the 
theatre;  but  the  authorities  ordered  him  to  don  a  kind  of 
helmet,  and  he  could  not  endure  that.  He  wrote  to  me  as 
follows:  *  All  would  have  gone  well,  sir,  but  for  the 
helmet;  when  they  gave  me  that,  I  could  not.'  He  pre- 
ferred death  by  hunger  to  wearing  the  helmet!  My 
father-in-law  pleases  me!  I  was  in  Bordeaux  on  a  time, 
but  forget  what  manner  of  helmets  are  worn  by  the  venders 
of  handbills ;  but  I  should  like  to  see  such  a  helmet.  Thou 
wilt  understand,  of  course,  that  I  preferred  to  add  the 
thousand  francs,  if  I  could  keep  him  far  away,  with  his 
helmet  and  his  absinthe.  This  is  what  pains  me,  however: 
people  say  that  even  here  he  was  a  sort  of  tipstaff,  or 
notary;  and  that  is  a  low  fiction,  for  it  is  enough  to  open 
the  first  book  on  heraldry  to  see  who  the  Kraslavskis 
were.  Here  connections  are  known;  and  the  Kraslavskis 
are  in  no  lack  of  them.  The  man  fell;  but  the  family  was 
and  is  famous.  Those  ladies  have  dozens  of  relatives  who 
are  not  so  and  so;  and  if  I  tell  this  whole  story,  I  do  so 
because  I  wish  thee  to  know  what  the  truth  is." 

But  the  truth  touching  the  Kraslavskis  concerned  Pan 
Stanislav  little;  so  he  returned  to  the  ladies,  and  all  the 
more  readily  tliat  Zavilovski  had  just  come.  Pan  Stanislav 
had  invited  the  young  man  to  after-dinner  tea,  so  as  to 
show  him  photographs  brought  from  Italy.  In  fact,  piles 
of  them  were  laid  out  on  the  table;  but  Zavilovski  was 


CHILDREN  OF  THE   SOIL.  351 

holding  in  his  hand  the  frame  containing  the  photograph 
of  Litka's  head,  and  was  so  enchanted  that  immediately 
after  they  made  him  acquainted  with  Mashko,  he  looked 
again  at  the  portrait,  and  continued  to  speak  of  it. 

"I  should  have  thought  it  the  idea  of  an  artist  rather 
than  a  portrait  of  a  living  child.  What  a  wonderful  head! 
What  an  expression!     Is  this  your  sister? " 

"No,"  answered  Maryuia;  "that  is  a  child  no  longer 
living." 

In  the  eyes  of  Zavilovski,  as  a  poet,  that  tragic  shadow 
increased  his  sympathy  and  admiration  for  that  truly 
angelic  face.  He  looked  at  the  photograph  for  some  time 
in  silence,  now  holding  it  away  from  his  eyes,  and  now 
drawing  it  nearer. 

"I  asked  if  it  was  your  sister,"  said  he,  "because  there 
is  something  in  the  features,  in  the  eyes  rather;  indeed, 
there  is  something." 

Zavilovski  seemed  to  speak  sincerely ;  but  Pan  Stanislav 
had  such  a  respect  for  the  dead  child,  a  respect  almost 
religious,  that,  in  spite  of  his  recognition  of  Marynia's 
beauty,  the  comparison  seemed  to  him  a  kind  of  profana- 
tion. Hence,  taking  the  photograph  from  Zavilovski's 
hands,  he  put  it  back  on  the  table,  and  began  to  speak 
with  a  certain  harsh  animation,  — 

"  Not  the  least ;  not  the  least !  There  is  not  one  trait  in 
common.  How  is  it  possible  to  compare  them !  Not  one 
trait  in  common." 

This  animation  touched  Marynia  somewhat. 

"I  am  of  that  opinion,  too,"  said  she. 

But  her  opinion  was  not  enough  for  him. 

"Did  you  know  Litka? "  asked  he,  turning  to  Pani 
Mashko. 

"I  did." 

"True;  you  saw  her  at  the  Bigiels'." 

"I  did." 

"Well,  there  wasn't  a  trace  of  likeness,  was  there?" 

"No." 

Zavilovski,  who  adored  Marynia,  looked  at  Pan  Stanislav 
with  a  certain  astonishment;  then  he  glanced  at  the  tall 
form  of  Pani  Mashko,  outlined  through  the  gray  robe, 
and  thought,  — 

"  How  elegant  she  is !  " 

After  a  while  the  Mashkos  rose  to  take  farewell. 
Mashko,  when  kissing  Marynia's  hand  at  parting,  said,— 


352  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

"Perhaps  I  shall  go  to  St.  Petersburg  soon;  at  that  time 
remember  my  wife  a  little." 

During  tea  Maryuia  reminded  Zavilovski  of  his  promise 
to  bring  at  his  first  visit,  and  read  to  her,  the  variant  of 
"  On  the  Threshold ; "  he  had  grown  so  attached  to  the 
Polanyetskis  already  that  he  gave  not  only  the  variant, 
but  another  poem,  which  he  had  written  earlier.  It  was 
evident  that  he  was  amazed  himself  at  his  own  self-confi- 
dence and  readiness;  so  that  when  he  had  finished  reading, 
and  heard  the  praises,  which  were  really  sincere,  he  said,  — 

"I  declare  truly  that  with  you,  after  the  third  meeting, 
it  seems  as  though  we  were  acquainted  from  of  old.  So 
true  is  this  that  I  am  astonished." 

Pan  Stanislav  remembered  that  once  he  had  said  some- 
thing similar  to  Marynia  in  Kremen;  but  he  received  this 
now  as  if  it  included  him  also. 

But  Zavilovski  had  her  only  in  mind;  she  simply 
delighted  him  with  her  straightforward  kindness,  and  her 
face. 

"That  beast  is  really  capable,"  said  Pan  Stanislav,  when 
Zavilovski  had  gone.  "Hast  thou  noticed  that  he  is 
changed  a  little  in  the  face?" 

"He  has  cut  his  hair,"  answered  Marynia. 

"Ah,  ha!  and  his  chin  sticks  out  a  trifle  more." 

Thus  speaking,  Pan  Stanislav  rose  and  began  to  put 
away  the  photographs  on  the  shelves  above  the  table; 
finally,  he  took  Litka's  portrait,  and  said,  — 

"I  will  take  this  to  my  study." 

"But  thou  hast  that  one  there  with  the  birches,  colored." 

''True;  but  I  do  not  want  this  here  so  much  in  view. 
Every  one  makes  remarks,  and  sometimes  that  angers  me. 
Wilt  thou  permit?" 

"Very  well,  my  Stas,"  answered  Marynia. 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  353 


CHAPTER  XXXIX. 

BiGiEL  persuaded  Pan  Stanislav  emphatically  not  to  ex- 
tend  the  house,  and  not  to  throw  himself  too  hurriedly  into 
undertakings  of  various  sorts.  "We  have  created,"  said 
he,  "an  honorable  mercantile  firm  of  a  kind  rare  in  this 
country;  hence  we  are  useful."  He  maintained  that  from 
gratitude  alone  they  ought  to  continue  a  business  through 
which  they  had  almost  doubled  their  property.  At  the 
same  time  he  expressed  the  conviction  that  they  would 
show  more  sense  if  at  this  juncture  specially  they  managed 
matters  with  care  and  solidly,  and  that  their  first  bold 
speculation,  though  it  had  been  fortunate,  should  not  only 
not  entice  them  to  others,  but  should  be  the  last. 

Pan  Stanislav  agreed  that  it  was  necessary  to  show 
moderation,  especially  in  success;  but  he  complained  that 
he  could  not  find  a  career  in  the  house,  and  that  he  wanted 
to  produce  something.  He  had  common-sense  enough  not 
to  think  yet  of  a  factory  on  his  own  capital.  "  I  do  not 
wish  to  carry  on  a  small  one,"  said  he,  "since  a  large  one 
producing  en  gros  attracts  me,  and  I  have  not  capital  for 
it;  one  with  shares,  I  should  be  working  not  for  myself, 
but  for  others."  He  understood,  too,  that  it  was  not  easy 
to  find  shareholders  among  the  local  elements,  and  he  did 
not  want  strangers;  he  knew,  moreover,  that  he  could  not 
rouse  confidence  in  them,  and  that  his  name  alone  would 
be  a  hindrance.  Bigiel,  for  whom  it  was  a  question  of  the 
"  house, "  was  sincerely  pleased  with  this  sobriety  of  view. 

In  Pan  Stanislav  was  roused  still  another  desire,  which 
is  as  old  as  man, — the  desire  of  possession.  After  the 
lucky  grain  speculation  and  the  will  of  Bukatski,  he  was 
quite  wealthy;  but  with  all  his  real  sobriety,  he  had  a 
certain  strange  feeling  that  that  wealth,  consisting  even 
of  the  most  reliable  securities  shut  up  in  fire-proof  safes, 
was  just  paper,  and  would  remain  so  till  he  owned  some- 
thing real,  of  which  he  could  say,  "This  is  mine."  That 
strange  desire  was  seizing  him  with  growing  force.  For 
him  it  was  not  a  question  of  anything  great,  but  of  some 
corner  of  his  own,  where  he  might  feel  at  home.  He  tried 
to  philosophize   over  this,  and  to  explain  to  Bigiel  that 

23 


354  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

such  a  desire  of  ownership  must  be  some  inborn  passion 
which  might  be  repressed,  but  which,  in  riper  age,  would 
appear  with  new  strength.  Bigiel  acknowledged  that  that 
might  be  true,  and  said,  — 

"That  is  proper.  Thou  art  married,  hence  hast  the 
wish  to  have  thy  own  hearth,  not  a  hired  one;  and 
since  thou  hast  the  means,  then  make  such  a  hearth  for 
thyself." 

Pan  Stanislav  had  been  thinking  for  some  time  of  build' 
ing  a  large  house  in  the  city,  —  a  house  which  would  satisfy 
his  desire  of  ownership,  and  also  bring  income.  But  one 
day  he  noted  a  bad  side  in  this  practical  project, — namely, 
it  had  no  charm.  It  is  necessary  to  love  that  something  of 
which  he  said,  "It  is  mine;  "  and  how  love  a  brick  build- 
ing, in  which  any  one  may  live  who  will  hire  lodgings. 
At  first  he  was  ashamed  of  this  thought,  for  it  seemed 
sentimental;  but  afterward  he  said  to  himself,  "No;  since 
I  have  means,  it  is  not  only  not  sentimental  to  use  them 
in  a  way  which  will  assure  satisfaction,  but  a  proof  of 
judgment."  He  was  more  attracted  by  the  thought  of  a 
smaller  house  in  the  city,  or  outside  the  city, — one  in 
which  only  he  and  his  wife  would  live.  But  he  wanted 
with  it  even  a  piece  of  land  on  which  something  would 
grow ;  he  felt,  for  example,  that  the  sight  of  trees  growing 
in  his  garden  or  before  his  house,  on  his  land,  would 
cause  him  great  pleasure;  he  was  astonished  himself  that 
this  was  so,  but  it  was.  At  last  he  came  to  the  conviction 
that  it  would  be  more  agreeable  to  have  some  little  place 
near  the  city,  something  in  the  style  of  that  summer  house 
which  Bigiel  owned,  but  with  a  piece  of  land,  a  piece  of 
forest,  some  acres  of  garden,  finally,  with  grounds,  and 
with  a  stork's  nest  somewhere  on  an  old  linden-tree. 

"Since  I  have  means  to  get  it,  I  prefer  it  to  be  thus,  not 
otherwise,  — that  is,  to  be  beautiful,  not  ugly,"  said  he. 

And  he  began  to  consider  the  affair  on  every  side.  He 
understood  that  since  it  was  a  question  of  a  nest  in  which 
he  was  to  live  out  his  life,  he  ought  to  select  with  care; 
hence  he  did  not  hurry.  Meanwhile  meditation  over  this 
occupied  all  his  hours  free  from  counting-house  toil,  and 
caiised  him  real  pleasure.  Various  people  learned  soon 
that  Pan  Stanislav  was  seeking  to  buy  with  ready  money; 
hence  propositions  came  from  various  sides,  often  strange, 
but  at  times  attractive.  On  occasions  he  had  to  drive  to 
villas  in  the  city,  or  outside  it.      Frequently,  after  his 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  355 

return  from  the  counting-house,  or  after  dinner,  Pan 
Stanislav  shut  himself  in  with  plans,  with  papers,  and 
came  out  only  in  the  evening.  In  those  days  Marynia  had 
much  leisure.  She  noted  at  last  that  something  occupied 
him  unusually,  and  tried  to  learn  what  it  was  by  question- 
ing; but  he  answered,  — 

"My  child,  when  there  is  a  result,  I  will  tell  thee;  but 
while  I  know  nothing,  it  would  be  difficult  to  talk  about 
nothing.     That  is  so  opposed  to  my  nature." 

She  learned  at  last  what  the  question  was  from  Pani 
Bigiel,  who  had  learned  it  from  her  husband,  to  whose 
nature  it  was  not  repugnant  to  speak  with  his  wife  about 
all  undertakings  and  plans  for  the  future.  For  Marynia  it 
would  have  been  also  immensely  agreeable  to  speak  with 
her  husband  of  everything,  and  especially  of  the  chance 
of  a  nest.  Her  eyes  laughed  at  the  very  thought  of  that; 
but  since  "  Stas's  "  disposition  stood  in  the  way,  she  pre- 
ferred through  delicacy  not  to  inquire. 

He  had  no  ill-will  in  this,  but  simply  it  did  not  occur  to 
him  to  initiate  her  into  any  affair  in  which  there  was  a 
question  of  money.  It  might  have  been  otherwise  had 
she  brought  him  a  considerable  dower,  or  had  he  been 
forced  to  manage  her  property.  In  such  affairs  he  was 
very  scrupulous.  But  since  he  was  managing  only  his  own, 
he  did  not  feel  now  any  more  than  in  his  past  unmarried 
years  any  need  of  confessing,  especially  while  nothing  was 
determined.  With  Bigiel  alone  did  he  talk,  because  he 
was  accustomed  to  talk  with  him  of  business. 

With  his  Avife  he  spoke  of  things  which,  according  to 
him,  "pertained  to  her;"  hence,  among  other  things,  of 
the  acquaintances  which  they  should  make.  Toward  the 
end  of  his  single  life  he  had  been  scarcely  anywhere;  but 
he  felt  that  at  present  he  could  not  act  thus.  They  re- 
turned, therefore,  visits  to  the  Mashkos;  and  on  a  certain 
evening  they  began  to  consider  whether  they  ought  to  visit 
the  Osnovskis,  who  had  returned  from  abroad,  and  would 
remain  in  Warsaw  till  the  middle  of  June.  Marynia  said 
that  they  ought,  because  they  should  see  them  at  Pani 
Mashko's;  and  she  wished  to  make  a  visit,  for  she  liked 
Pan  Osnovski,  who  had  moved  her  sympathy.  Pan  Stanis- 
lav seemed  less  willing,  and  the  decision  was  according 
to  his  wish  at  first;  but  some  days  later  the  Osnovskis  met 
Marynia  and  greeted  her  so  cordially,  Pani  Osnovski 
repeated  so  often,    "We  Roman  women,"  and  both   put 


356  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

such  emphasis  on  the  hope  of  seeing  and  meeting  her,  that 
it  was  not  possible  to  avoid  the  visit. 

When  the  visit  was  made,  politeness  was  shown  first  of 
all  to  ]\rarynia.  The  husband  vied  with  his  wife  in  this 
regard.  Like  well-bred  people,  they  were  faultlessly  polite 
to  Fan  Stauislav,  but  colder.  He  understood  that  Marynia 
played  the  first,  and  he  only  the  second  role,  and  that  irri- 
tated him  a  little.  Pan  Osnovski,  for  that  matter,  had  no 
need  to  make  an  effort  in  being  polite  to  Marynia;  for, 
feeling  that  she  had  for  him  earnest  sympathy,  he  repaid 
her  with  interest,  though,  in  general,  to  act  thus  was  not 
his  habit. 

He  seemed  to  her  more  in  love  with  his  wife  than  ever. 
It  was  evident  that  his  heart  beat  with  more  life  when  he 
was  looking  at  her.  When  speaking  to  her,  he  seemed  to 
offer  his  expressions  with  a  certain  fear,  as  it  were,  lest  he 
might  offend  her  with  something.  Pan  Stanislav  looked 
on  with  a  kind  of  pity;  but  the  sight  was  also  touching. 
In  his  struggle  with  corpulence,  however,  Pan  Osnovski 
had  gained  such  a  crushing  victory  that  his  clothing  seemed 
too  large  for  him.  The  pimples  on  his  blond  face  had 
vanished,  and,  in  general,  he  was  more  presentable  than 
he  had  been. 

But  the  lady  had,  as  ever,  her  incomparable,  sloping 
violet  eyes,  and  thoughts,  which,  like  birds  of  paradise, 
were  playing  in  the  air  continually. 

The  Polanyetskis  made  new  acquaintances  at  the  Osnov- 
skis,  —  namely,  Pani  Bronich  and  her  sister's  daughter, 
Panna  Castelli;  these  ladies  had  arrived  for  the  "summer 
carnival "  in  Warsaw,  and  were  living  in  the  same  villa, 
which  the  late  Pan  Bronich  had  sold  to  the  Osnovskis, 
with  the  reservation  of  one  pavilion  for  his  wife.  Pani 
Bronich  was  a  widow  after  Pan  Bronich,  whom  she  men- 
tioned as  the  last  relative  of  the  Princes  Ostrogski,  and  as 
the  last  descendant  of  Kurik.  She  was  known  in  the  city 
also  under  the  title  of  "Sweetness;"  for  this  name  she 
was  indebted  to  the  fact  that,  when  talking,  especially  to 
persons  whom  she  needed,  she  became  so  pleasing  that  it 
seemed  as  if  she  were  speaking  through  a  lump  of  sugar 
held  in  her  mouth.  Marvels  were  told  of  her  lies.  Panna 
Castelli  was  the  daughter  of  Pani  Bronich 's  sister,  who, 
in  her  day,  to  the  great  offence  of  her  family  and  of 
society,  married  an  Italian,  a  music-teacher,  and  died  in 
labor,    leaving    a   daughter.      When,   a  year   later,    Pan 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  357 

Castelli  was  drowned  at  Venice,  in  the  Lido,  Pani  Bronich 
took  lier  niece,  and  reared  her. 

Panua  Lineta  was  a  beauty,  with  very  regular  features, 
blue  eyes,  golden  hair,  and  a  complexion  too  fair,  for  it 
was  almost  like  porcelain.  Her  eyelids  were  rather  heavy; 
this  gave  her  a  dreamy  look,  but  that  dreaminess  might 
seem  also  concentration.  It  might  be  supposed  that  she 
was  a  person  who  led  an  immensely  developed  inner  life, 
and  hence  bore  herself  indiiferently  toward  all  that  sur- 
rounded her.  If  any  man  had  not  come  on  that  idea  un- 
aided, he  might  be  sure  that  Pani  Bronich  would  help  him. 
Pani  Osnovski,  who  had  passed  through  the  grades  of  en- 
chantment over  her  cousin,  said  of  Lineta's  eyes,  "They 
are  as  deep  as  lakes."  The  only  question  was  what  is  at 
the  bottom;  and  it  was  precisely  this  secret  which  gave 
her  charm  to  the  young  lady. 

The  Osnovskis  came  with  the  intention  of  remaining  in 
Warsaw;  but  Pani  Aneta  had  not  seen  Kome  in  vain. 
"Art,  and  art!"  said  she  to  Pani  Marynia;  "I  wish  to 
know  of  nothing  else."  Her  professed  plan  was  to  open 
an  "Athenian"  salon;  but  her  secret  one  was  to  become 
the  Beatrice  of  some  Dante,  the  Laura  of  some  Petrarch, 
or,  at  least,  something  in  the  nature  of  Vittoria  Colonna 
for  some  Michael  Angelo. 

"  We  have  a  nice  garden  with  the  villa,"  said  she.  "The 
evenings  will  be  beautiful,  and  we  shall  pass  them  in  such 
Eoman  and  Florentine  conversations.  You  know"  (here 
she  raised  her  hands  to  the  height  of  her  shoulders,  and 
began  to  move  them),  "the  gray  hour,  a  little  twilight,  a 
little  moonlight,  a  few  lamps,  a  few  shadows  from  the 
trees;  we  shall  sit  and  talk  in  an  undertone  about  every- 
thing,—life,  feelings,  art.  In  truth,  that  is  worth  more 
than  gossip!  My  Yozio,  perhaps  thou  wilt  be  annoyed; 
but  be  not  angry,  do  this  for  my  sake,  and,  believe  me,  it 
will  be  very  nice."  . 

"But,  my  Anekta,  can   I  be   annoyed  by  what  pleases 

thee  ?  " 

"Especially  now,  while  Lineta  is  with  us;  she  is  an 
artist  in  every  drop  of  her  blood."  ■,  -    a-x,  4. 

Here  she  turned  to  Lineta.  "What  fine  thread  is  that 
head  spinning  now?  What  dost  thou  say  of  such  Koman 
evenings?"  .,         . ,,-,     .,  ,    i„„. 

Lineta  smiled  dreamily;  and  the  widow  of  "Rurik  s  last 
descendant"  began  to  speak,  with  an  expression  ot  inde- 
scribable sweetness,  to  Pan  Stanislav,— 


358  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

"  You  do  not  know  that  Victor  Hugo  blessed  her  when 
she  was  yet  a  little  girl." 

"Then   did   you    ladies    know   Victor   Hugo?"    asked 

Marynia.  ,  .       p  ,  •       •      , 

"We?  no!  I  would  not  know  him  for  anything  in  the 
world;  but  once,  when  we  were  going  through  Passy,  he 
stood  on  a  balcony,  and  I  know  not  whether  through  soine- 
thinf'  prophetic,  or  through  inspiration,  the  moment  he  set 
eyes'on  Lineta,  he  raised  his  hand  and  blessed  her." 

"  Aunt!  "  said  Panna  Castelli. 

"When  it  is  true,  my  child;  and  what  is  true,  is  true! 
I  called  at  once  to  her,  '  See,  see!  he  is  raising  his  hand! ' 
and  Pan  Tsardyn,  the  consul,  who  was  sitting  on  the 
front  seat,  saw  also  that  he  raised  his  hand,  and  gave  a 
blessing.  1  tell  this  freely,  for  perhaps  the  Lord  God 
forgave  him  his  sins,  of  which  he  had  many,  because  of 
this  blessing.  He  was  of  such  perverse  mind;  and  still, 
when  he  saw  Lineta,  he  blessed  her." 

There  was  in  the  tale  this  much  truth ,  —  those  ladies , 
while  going  through  Passy,  really  saw  Victor  Hugo  on  a 
balcony.  As  to  the  blessing  which  they  said  he  gave 
Lineta,  malicious  tongues  in  Warsaw  declared  that  he 
raised  his  hand  because  he  was  yawning  at  the  moment. 

Meanwhile  Pani  Aneta  continued, — 

"We  '11  make  for  ourselves  here  a  little  Italy;  and  should 
the  attempt  fail,  next  winter  we  '11  escape  to  the  great  one. 
It  has  entered  my  head  already  to  open  a  house  in  Eome. 
Meantime  Yozio  has  bought  a  number  of  nice  copies  of 
statues  and  paintings.  That  was  so  worthy  on  his  part, 
for  he  doesn't  care  much  about  them;  he  did  this  only  for 
me.  There  are  very  good  things  among  them;  for  Yozio 
had  the  wit  not  to  trust  himself,  and  begged  the  aid  of 
Pan  Svirski.  It  is  a  pity  that  they  are  not  here;  it  is  a 
pity,  too,  that  Pan  Bukatski  died,  as  it  were,  through 
perversity,  for  he  would  have  been  useful.  At  times  he 
was  very  nice;  he  had  a  certain  subtlety,  snake-like,  and 
that  in  conversation,  gives  life.  But"  (here  she  turned  to 
Marynia)  "do  you  know  that  you  have  conquered  Pan  Svir- 
ski utterly?  After  you  had  left  Eome,  he  talked  of  no  one 
else,  and  he  has  begun  a  Madonna  with  your  features. 
You'll  become  a  Fornarinal  Evidently  you  have  luck 
with  artists;  and  when  my  Florentine  evenings  begin,  Lineta 
and  I  must  be  careful,  —  if  not,  we  shall  go  to  the  corner." 

But  Pani  Bronich,  casting  hostile  glances  at  Marynia, 
said,  — 


CHILDRBN  OF  THE   SOIL.  359 

"  If  it  is  a  question  of  faces  which  make  an  impression 
on  artists,  I'll  tell  the  company  what  happened  once  in 
Nice." 

"Aunt!  "  interrupted  Panna  Castelli. 

"  But  if  it  is  true,  my  child ;  and  what 's  true,  is  true !  A 
year  ago  —  no !  two  years  ago  —    Oh ,  how  time  flies !  —  " 

But  Pani  Aneta,  who  had  heard  more  than  once,  surely, 
what  had  happened  at  Nice,  began  to  inquire  of  Marynia,  — 

"But  have  you  many  acquaintances  in  the  world  of 
artists?" 

"My  husband  has,"  answered  Marynia,  "I  have  not;  but 
we  know  Pan  Zavilovski." 

Pani  Aneta  fell  into  real  enthusiasm  at  this  news.  It 
was  her  dream  to  know  Zavilovski,  and  let  "  Yozio "  say 
if  it  was  not  her  dream.  Not  long  before,  she  and  Lin  eta 
had  read  his  verses  entitled  "Ex  imo;"  and  Lineta,  who, 
at  times,  knows  how  to  describe  an  impression  with  one 
word,  as  no  one  else  can,  said,  —  what  is  it  that  she  said 
so  characteristic? 

"That  there  was  in  that  something  bronze-like,"  added 
Pani  Bronich. 

"Yes,  something  bronze-like;  I  imagined  to  myself  also 
Pan  Zavilovski  as  something  cast.  How  does  he  look  in 
reality?" 

"He  is  short,  fat,  fifty  years  old,"  said  Pan  Stanislav, 
"and  has  no  hair  on  his  head." 

At  this  the  faces  of  Pani  Aneta  and  Lineta  took  on  such 
an  expression  of  disenchantment  that  Marynia  laughed, 
and  said, — 

"Do  not  believe  him,  ladies;  he  is  malicious,  and  likes 
to  torment.  Pan  Zavilovski  is  young,  somewhat  shy,  a 
little  like  ^Yagner." 

"That  means  that  he  has  a  chin  like  Punch,"  added  Pan 
Stanislav. 

But  Pani  Aneta  paid  no  heed  to  Pan  Stanislav's  words, 
and  obtained  from  Marynia  a  promise  to  make  her  ac- 
quainted with  Pan  Zavilovski,  and  soon,  "very  soon,  for 
summer  is  at  the  girdle ! " 

"We  will  try  to  make  it  pleasant  for  him  among  us,  and 
that  he  shouldn't  be  shy;  though,  if  he  is  a  little  shy, 
that  is  no  harm,  for  he  ought  to  be,  and,  like  an  eagle  in  a 
cage,  withdraw  when  people  approach  him.  But  we  will 
come  to  an  understanding  with  Lineta;  she, •too,^^is  wrapped 
up  in  herself,  and  is  as  mysterious  as  a  sphinx. 


360  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

"  It  seems  to  me  that  every  uncommon  soul  — "  began 
Aunt  Sweetness. 

But  the  Polanyetskis  rose  to  go.  In  the  entrance  they 
met  the  wonderful  Kopovski,  whose  shoes  the  servants 
were  dusting,  and  who  was  arranging  meanwhile  the  hair 
on  his  statuesque  head,  which  was  as  solid  as  marble. 
When  outside.  Pan  Stanislav  remarked,  — 

"He,  too,  will  be  useful  for  their  *  Florentine  '  evenings; 
he,  too,  is  a  sphinx." 

"If  he  were  to  stand  in  a  niche,"  said  Marynia.  "But 
what  beautiful  women  they  are ! " 

"It  is  a  wonderful  thing,"  answered  Pan  Stanislav, 
"though  Pani  Osnovski  is  good-looking,  I,  for  example, 
prefer  Pani  Mashko  as  a  beauty.  As  to  Castelli,  she  is, 
in  truth,  beautiful,  though  too  tall.  Hast  thou  noticed 
how  they  speak  of  her  all  the  time,  but  she  not  a  word?" 

"She  has  a  very  intelligent  opinion,"  answered  Marynia, 
"but  is,  perhaps,  a  little  timid,  like  poor  Zavilovski." 

"It  is  necessary  to  think  of  arranging  for  that  acquaint- 
ance." 

But  an  accident  disturbed  these  plans  of  making  the 
acquaintance.  Marynia,  on  the  day  following  this  visit, 
slipped  on  the  stone  stairs,  and  struck  her  knee  against  the 
step  with  such  violence  that  she  had  to  lie  in  bed  several 
days.  Pan  Stanislav,  on  returning  from  the  office,  learned 
what  had  happened.  Alarmed  at  first,  then  pacified  by  the 
doctor,  he  upbraided  his  wife  rather  sharply. 

"  Thou  shouldst  remember  that  it  may  be  a  question  not 
of  thee  alone,"  said  he. 

She  suffered  severely  from  the  fall  and  from  these 
words,  which  seemed  to  her  too  unsparing ;  for  she  consid- 
ered that  with  him  it  should  above  all  be  a  question  of  her, 
especially  as  other  fears  were  baseless  so  far.  Aside  from 
this,  he  showed  great  attention  ;  neither  on  the  next  nor 
the  following  day  did  he  go  to  the  counting-house,  but  re- 
mained to  take  care  of  her.  In  the  forenoon  he  read  to 
her ;  after  lunch,  he  worked  in  the  adjoining  room  with 
open  doors,  so  that  she  might  call  him  at  any  moment. 
Affected  by  this  care,  she  thanked  him  very  warmly ;  in 
return  he  kissed  her,  and  said,  — 

"My  child,  it  is  a  simple  duty.  Thou  seest  that  even 
strangers  inquire  about  thee  daily." 

In  fact,  strangers  did  inquire  daily,  Zavilovski  inquired 
in  the  counting-house,  "  How  does  the  lady  feel  ?  "     Pani 


CHILDREN  OF   THE  SOIL.  361 

Bigiel  came  in  the  forenoon,  and  Bigiel  in  the  evening- 
without  going  to  the  chamber  of  the  sick  woman,  he 
played  on  the  piano  in  the  next  room  to  entertain  her. 
The  Mashkos  and  Pani  Bronich  left  cards  twice.  Pani 
Osnovski,  leaving  her  husband  in  the  carriage  below,  broke 
into  Marynia  a  little  by  violence,  and  sat  with  her  about 
two  hours,  talking,  with  her  usual  gift  of  jumping  from 
subject  to  subject,  of  Rome,  of  her  intended  evenings,  of 
Svirski,  of  her  husband,  of  Lineta,  and  of  Zavilovski,  who 
did  n't  let  her  sleep.  Toward  the  end  of  the  visit,  she 
declared  that  they  ought  to  say  thou  to  each  other,  and 
that  she  invited  Marynia  to  give  aid  in  one  plan:  "that  is, 
not  a  plan,  but  a  conspiracy ;"  or,  rather,  in  a  certain  thing 
which  had  so  struck  into  her  head  that  it  was  burning,  and 
burning  to  such  a  degree  that  her  whole  head  was  on  fire. 

"That  Zavilovski  has  so  stuck  in  my  mind  that  Yozio 
has  begun  to  be  jealous  of  him ;  but  in  the  end  of  the 
affair,  Yozio,  poor  fellow,  does  n't  know  himself  what  to 
think.  I  am  sure  that  he  and  Lineta  are  created  for  each 
other,  —  not  Yozio  and  Lineta,  but  Zavilovski  and  Lineta. 
That  poetry,  that  poetry !  And  don't  laugh,  Marynia ;  don't 
think  me  moonstruck.  Thou  dost  not  know  Lineta.  She 
needs  some  uncommon  man.  She  would  n't  marry  Kopov- 
ski  for  anything,  though  Kopovski  looks  like  an  archangel. 
Such  a  face  as  Kopovski  has,  I  have  never  seen  in  life. 
In  Italy,  perhaps,  in  some  picture,  and  even  then  not. 
Knowest  thou  what  Lineta  says  of  him  ? —  '  C'est  un  imbe- 
cile.' But  still  she  looks  at  him.  Think  how  beautiful 
that  would  be,  if  they  should  become  acquainted,  and  love, 
and  take  each  other, — that  is,  not  Kopovski  and  Lineta, 
but  Zavilovski  and  Lineta.  That  would  be  a  couple !  Li- 
neta, with  her  aspirations,  whom  can  she  find  ?  Where  is 
there  a  man  for  her  ?  What  we  have  seen,  that  we  have 
seen.  I  imagine  how  they  would  live.  It  is  so  wearisome  in 
the  world  that  when  it  is  possible  to  have  such  a  plan,  it  is 
worth  while  to  work  for  it.  Moreover,  I  know  that  that 
will  succeed  without  difficulty,  for  Aunt  Bronich  is  wringing 
her  hands,  —  where  can  she  find  a  husband  for  Lineta  ?  I 
am  afraid  that  I  have  worn  thee  out,  and  surely  I  have 
tormented  thee ;  but  it  is  so  nice  to  talk,  especially  when 
one  is  making  some  plan." 

In  fact,  Marynia  felt,  as  it  were,  a  turning  of  the  head 
after  Pani  Aneta  had  gone.  Still  when  Pan  Stanislay 
came  in,  she  told  him  of  the  plans  prepared  against  Zavi- 


362  CHILDREN  0¥  THE  SOIL. 

lovski,  and,  laughing  a  little  at  the  eagerness  of  Pani 
Aneta,  said  at  last,  — 

"  She  must  have  a  good  heart,  and  she  pleases  me ;  but 
what  an  enthusiast !  What  is  there  that  does  n't  rush 
through  her  head  ?  " 

''She  is  impetuous,  but  no  enthusiast,"  answered  Pan 
Stanislav ;  "  and  see  what  the  difference  is,  —  enthusiasm 
comes  almost  always  from  the  warmth  of  a  good  heart, 
while  impetuousness  frequently  agrees  with  a  dry  heart, 
and  often  comes  even  from  this,  that  the  head  is  hot,  and 
the  heart  is  asleep." 

"  Thou  hast  no  liking  for  Pani  Aneta,"  said  Marynia. 

Pan  Stanislav  did  not  indeed  like  her ;  but  this  time, 
instead  of  confirming  or  contradicting,  he  looked  at  his 
wife  with  a  certain  curiosity,  and  that  moment  her  beauty 
struck  him,  —  her  hair  flowing  in  disorder  on  the  pillow, 
and  her  small  face  coming  out  of  the  dark  waves,  just  like 
a  flower.  Her  eyes  seemed  bluer  than  usual ;  through  her 
open  mouth  was  to  be  seen  the  row  of  small  white  teeth. 
Pan  Stanislav  approached  her,  and  said  in  an  undertone,  — 

"  How  beautiful  thou  art  to-day  !  " 

And,  bending  over  her,  with  changed  face,  he  fell  to  kiss- 
ing her  eyes  and  mouth. 

But  every  kiss  moved  her,  and  each  movement  caused 
pain.  It  was  disagreeable,  besides,  that  he  had  noticed  her 
beauty  as  if  by  accident ;  his  expression  of  face  was  dis- 
tasteful to  her,  and  his  inattention ;  therefore  she  turned 
away  her  head. 

"  Stas,  do  not  kiss  me  so  roughly ;  thou  knowest  that  I  am 
suffering." 

Then  he  stood  erect,  and  said  with  suppressed  anger,  — 

"  True ;  I  beg  pardon." 

And  he  went  to  his  room  to  examine  the  plan  of  a  cer- 
tain summer  house  with  a  garden,  which  had  been  sent  to 
him  that  morning. 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 


CHAPTER  XL. 

But  Marynia's  illness  was  not  lasting,  and  a  week  later 
she  and  her  husband  were  able  to  visit  the  Bigiels,  who 
had  moved  to  their  summer  residence;  for  the  weather, 
notwithstanding  the  early  season,  was  fine,  and  in  the  city 
summer  heats  were  almost  beginning.  Zavilovski,  who  had 
grown  accustomed  to  them,  went  also,  taking  an  immense 
kite,  which  he  was  to  fly  in  company  with  Van  Stanislav 
and  the  children.  The  Bigiels,  too,  liked  Zavilovski,  since 
he  was  simple,  and,  except  his  shyness,  a  pleasant  man,  on 
occasions  even  childlike.  Pani  Bigiel  maintained,  more- 
over, that  he  had  a  peculiar  head ;  which  was  in  so  fur  true, 
that  he  had  a  scar  on  his  eyelid,  and  that  his  prominent 
chin  gave  him  an  expression  of  energy  which  was  contra- 
dicted utterly  by  his  upper  face,  which  was  delicate,  almost 
feminine.  At  first  Pani  Bigiel  sought  in  him  an  original; 
but  he  mastered  everything,  and  therefore  himself,  too 
quickly.  He  was  simply  a  great  enthusiast  of  unequal 
temper,  because  he  was  timid;  and  he  was  not  without  hid- 
den pride. 

At  dinner  they  mentioned  tlie  Osnovskis  to  him,  and 
the  projected  Athenian-Roman-Florentine  evenings,  Panna 
Castelli,  and  the  curiosity  which  he  had  roused  in  the 
ladies.     When  he  heard  this,  he  said, — 

"  Oh,  it  is  well  to  know  that ;  I  shall  not  go  there  now 
for  anything  in  the  world." 

"  You  will  make  their  acquaintance  first  at  our  house," 
said  Marynia. 

"  I  shall  escape  from  the  entrance,"  said  he,  clasping  his 
hands. 

"  Why  ?  "  asked  Pan  Stanislav.  "  It  is  needful  to  have 
the  courage  not  only  of  one's  convictions,  but  of  one's 
verses." 

"Evidently,"  said  Pani  Bigiel.  "What  is  there  to  be 
ashamed  of  ?  I  should  look  people  in  the  eyes  boldly  and 
say :  I  write  ;  yes,  I  write." 

"I  write;  yes,  I  write,"  repeated  Zavilovski,  raising  his 
head  and  laughing. 


364  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

But  Marynia  contiuued  :  "  You  will  make  their  acquaint- 
ance at  our  house;  then  you  will  leave  your  card  with 
them,  and  after  that  we  will  visit  them  some  evening." 

"  I  cannot  hide  my  head  in  snow,"  said  he,  "  because 
there  is  none ;  but  I  '11  find  some  place  of  hiding." 

"  But  if  I  entreat  you  greatly  ?  " 

''  Then  I  will  go,"  answered  Zavilovski,  after  a  while, 
blushing  slightly ;  and  he  looked  at  her. 

Her  face,  somewhat  pale  after  protracted  lying  in  bed, 
had  become  more  delicate,  and  looked  like  the  face  of  a 
maiden  of  sixteen.  She  seemed  so  wonderful  to  the  young 
man  that  he  could  refuse  her  nothing. 

In  the  evening.  Pan  Stanislav  was  to  take  him  back  to 
the  city ;  but  before  that  Marynia  said  to  him,  — 

"Now  you  must  be  constrained,  for  you  have  not  seen 
Panna  Lineta  Castelli ;  but  as  soon  as  you  have  seen  her, 
you  will  fall  in  love." 

"  T,  Pan]  ?  "  cried  Zavilovski,  putting  his  hand  on  his 
breast ;   "  I,  with  Panna  Castelli  ?  " 

And  there  was  so  much  sincerity  in  his  question  that 
he  was  confused  again ;  but  this  time  Marynia  herself  was 
confused  somewhat. 

Meantime  Pan  Stanislav  has  finished  his  conversation 
with  Bigiel  about  the  dangers  of  investing  capital  in  land, 
and  they  drive  away.  Marynia  remembers  how  once  she 
returned  with  her  father,  Pani  Emilia,  Litka,  and  Pan 
Stanislav  from  the  Bigiels,  in  a  moonlight  night  such  as 
this;  how  "Pan  Stanislav"  was  in  love  with  her  then; 
how  unhappy  he  was ;  how  severe  she  was  with  him  ;  and 
her  heart  begins  to  beat  with  pity  for  that  *'  Pan  Stanislav," 
who  suffered  so  much  on  a  time.  She  wants  to  nestle  up 
to  him  and  implore  pardon  for  those  evil  moments  of  the 
past ;  and  but  for  the  presence  of  Zavilovski,  she  would 
do  so. 

But  that  old-time  Pan  Stanislav  is  sitting  there  calm  and 
self-confident  at  her  side,  and  smoking  his  cigar.  Moreover, 
she  is  his  ;  he  has  taken  her  and  has  her ;  all  is  over. 

"  Of  what  art  thou  thinking,  Stas  ?  "  inquired  she. 

"  Of  the  business  of  which  I  was  talking  with  Bigiel." 

And,  shaking  the  ashes  from  his  cigar,  he  replaced  it  in 
his  mouth,  and  drew  so  vigorously  that  a  ruddy  gleam 
lighted  his  mustache  and  a  part  of  his  face. 

Zavilovski,  looking  at  Marynia's  face,  thought  in  his 
young  soul  that  if  she  were  his  wife  he  would  not  smoke 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  365 

a  cigar,  nor  tliink  of  business  of  which  he  had  been  talk- 
ing with  Bigiel,  but  might  kneel  before  her  and  adore  her 
on  his  knees. 

And  gradually,  under  the  influence  of  the  night  and 
that  sweet  womanly  face,  which  he  glorified,  exaltation 
possessed  him.  After  a  time  he  began  to  declaim,  at  first 
in  silence,  as  if  to  himself,  then  more  audibly,  his  verses 
entitled,  ''Snows  on  the  Mountains."  There  was  in  that 
poem,  as  it  were,  an  immense  yearning  for  something  un- 
approachable and  immaculate.  Zavilovski  himself  did  not 
know  when  they  arrived  in  the  city,  and  when  lamps  began 
to  gleam  on  both  sides  of  the  street.  At  Pan  Stanislav's 
house  Marynia  said,  — 

"  To-morrow,  then,  to  a  five  o'clock." 

"  Yes,"  answered  he,  kissing  her  hand. 

Marynia  was  sunk  somewhat  in  revery  under  the  influence 
of  the  ride,  tlie  night,  and  maybe  the  verses.  But  from 
the  time  of  their  stay  in  Rome,  she  and  her  husband  had 
repeated  the  rosary  together.  And  after  these  prayers  a 
great  tenderness  possessed  her  suddenly,  —  as  it  were,  an 
influx  of  feeling,  hidden  for  a  time  by  other  impressions. 
Approaching  him,  she  put  her  arms  around  his  neck,  and 
whispered,  — 

"My  Stas,  but  we  feel  so  pleasant  together,  do  we 
not  ?  " 

He  drew  her  toward  him,  and  answered  with  a  certain 
careless  boastfulness,  — 

"  But  do  I  complain  ?  " 

And  it  did  not  occur  to  him  that  there  was  in  her  ques- 
tion something  like  a  shade  of  doubt  and  sorrow,  which 
she  did  not  like  to  admit  to  her  soul,  and  desired  him  to 
calm  and  convince  her. 

Next  morning  in  the  ofiice  Zavilovski  gave  Pan  Stanislav 
a  cutting  from  some  paper  of  "  Snows  on  the  Mountains  ;  " 
he  read  it  during  dinner,  but  with  the  sound  of  forks  the 
verses  seemed  less  beautiful  than  amid  the  night  stillness 
and  in  moonlight. 

"Zavilovski  told  me,"  said  Pan  Stanislav,  "that  a  volume 
would  be  issued  soon  ;  but  he  has  promised  to  collect  first 
everything  printed  in  various  journals,  and  bring  it  to 
thee." 

"No,"  said  Marynia;  "he  should  keep  them  for  Lineta/' 

"  Ah,  they  are  to  meet  to-morrow  for  the  first  time.  Ye 
wish  absolutely  to  make  an  epoch  in  Zavilovski's  life  ?  " 


366  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

"We  do,"  answered  Marynia,  with  decisiveness.  "  Aneta 
astonished  me  at  first ;  but  why  not  ?  " 

Indeed,  the  meeting  took  place.  The  Osnovskis,  Pani 
Bronich,  and  Panna  Castelli  came  very  punctually  at  five  ; 
Zavilovski  had  come  still  earlier,  to  avoid  entering  a  room 
in  presence  of  a  whole  society.  But  as  it  was  he  was  not 
only  frightened,  but  more  awkward  than  usual,  and  never 
had  his  legs  seemed  so  long  to  him.  There  was,  however, 
a  certain  distinction  even  in  his  awkwardness ;  and  Pani 
Aneta  was  able  to  see  that.  The  first  scenes  of  the  human 
comedy  began,  in  which  those  ladies,  as  well-bred  persons, 
guarding  against  every  rudeness  and  staring  at  Zavilovski, 
did  not,  however,  do  anything  else ;  he,  feigning  not  to  see 
this,  was  not  thinking  of  anything  else  than  how  they  were 
looking  at  him  and  judging  him.  This  caused  him  great 
constraint,  which  he  strove  to  hide  by  artificial  freedom  ; 
he  had  so  much  self-love,  however,  that  he  was  interested 
in  having  the  judgment  favorable.  But  the  ladies  were 
so  attuned  previously  that  the  decision  could  not  be 
unfavorable  ;  and  even  had  Zavilovski  turned  out  flat  and 
dull  it  would  have  been  taken  for  wisdom  and  poetic 
originality;  More  indifferent  was  the  bearing  of  Lineta, 
who  was  somewhat  astonished  that  for  the  moment,  not 
she  was  the  sun,  and  Zavilovski  the  moon,  but  the  contrary. 
The  first  impression  which  he  made  on  her  was :  "  What 
comparison  with  that  stupid  Kopovski !  " 

And  the  incomparable,  wonderful  face  of  that  "  stupid  " 
stood  before  her  eyes  as  if  living ;  therefore  her  lids  became 
dreamier  still,  and  the  expression  of  her  face  called  to  mind 
a  sphinx  in  porcelain  more  than  ever.  She  is  irritated,  how- 
ever, that  Zavilovski  turns  almost  no  attention  to  her  form 
of  a  Juno,  nor  to  that  something  "  mysterious  and  poetic," 
which,  as  Pani  Bronich  insists,  fetters  one  from  the  first 
glance.  She  begins  to  observe  him  gradually ;  and,  having, 
besides  her  poetic  inclination,  the  sense  of  social  observation 
developed  powerfully,  she  sees  that  he  has  much  expression 
indeed,  but  that  his  coat  fits  badly,  that  he  dresses,  of  course, 
at  a  poor  tailor's,  and  that  the  pin  in  his  cravat  is  maiivais 
genre  simpl3^  Meanwhile  he  casts  occasional  glances  at 
Marynia,  as  the  one  near  and  friendly  soul,  and  converses 
with  Pani  Aneta,  who  considers  it  as  the  highest  tact  not 
to  mention  poetry  on  first  acquaintance,  and,  knowing  that 
Zavilovski  had  passed  the  early  years  of  his  childhood  in  the 
country,  begins  to  chatter  about  her  inclinations  for  rural 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL,  367 

life.  Her  husband  prefers  the  city  always,  having  his 
friends  and  pleasures  in  the  city,  but  as  to  her  !  —  "Oh  I 
am  sincere,  and  t  confess  at  once  that  I  cannot  endure  land 
management  and  accounts ;  for  this  I  have  been  scolded 
more  than  once.  Besides,  I  am  a  trifle  lazy ;  therefore  I 
should  like  work  in  which  I  could  be  lazy.  What  should 
I  like,  then  ?  " 

Here  she  spreads  out  her  extended  fingers  so  as  to  count 
more  easily  the  occupations  which  would  suit  her  taste : 

"  First,  I  should  like  to  herd  geese  !  " 

Zavilovski  laughs ;  she  seems  to  him  natural,  and,  besides, 
the  picture  of  Pani  Osnovski  herding  geese  amuses  him. 

Her  violet  eyes  begin  to  laugh  also ;  and  she  falls  into  the 
tone  of  a  free  and  joyous  maiden,  who  talks  of  everything 
which  runs  through  her  head. 

"  And  you  would  like  that  ?  "  inquires  she  of  Zavilovski. 

"  Passionately." 

"Ah,  you  see  !  What  else  ?  I  should  like  to  be  a  fisher- 
man. The  morning  dawn  must  be  reflected  beautifully  in 
the  water.  Then  the  damp  nets  before  the  cottage,  with 
films  of  water  between  the  meshes  of  the  net.  If  not  a 
fisherman,  I  should  like  to  be  at  least  a  heron,  and  meditate 
in  the  water  on  one  leg,  or  a  lapwing  in  the  fields.  But  nol 
the  lapwing  is  a  sad  kind  of  bird,  as  if  in  mourning." 

Here  she  turned  to  Panna  Castelli,  — 

"  Lineta,  what  wouldst  thou  like  to  be  in  the  country?" 

Panna  Lineta  raised  her  lids,  and  answered  after  a  while, — 

"A  spider-web." 

The  imagination  of  Zavilovski  as  a  poet  was  touched  by 
this  answer.  Suddenly  a  great  yellow  sweep  of  stubble 
stood  before  his  eyes,  with  silver  threads  floating  in  the 
calm  blue  and  in  the  sun. 

"  Ah,  what  a  pretty  picture  !  "  said  he. 

He  looked  more  carefully  at  Lineta;  and  she  smiled,  as  if 
in  thankfulness  that  he  had  felt  the  beauty  of  the  image. 

But  at  that  moment  the  Bigiels  came.  Pani  Bronich  took 
Zavilovski  into  her  sphere  of  influence,  and  so  hemmed  him 
in  with  her  chair  that  he  had  no  chance  to  escape.  It  was 
easy  to  divine  the  subject  of  their  dialogue,  for  Zavilovski 
raised  his  eyes  from  time  to  time  to  Lineta,  as  if  to  convince 
himself  that  he  was  looking  at  that  about  which  he  was 
hearing.  At  last,  though  the  conversation  was  conducted  in 
subdued  tones,  those  present  heard  these  words,  spoken  as 
if  through  sugar,  — 


368  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

"  Do  you  know  that  Napoleon  —  that  is,  I  wanted  to  say 
Victor  Hugo  —  blessed  her  ?  " 

In  genei-al,  Zavilovski  had  heard  so  many  uncommon 
things  that  he  might  look  at  Lineta  with  a  certain  curi- 
osity. She  had  been,  according  to  those  narratives,  the  most 
marvellous  child  in  the  world,  always  very  gentle,  and 
not  strong.  At  ten  years  she  had  been  very  ill ;  sea  air 
was  prescribed,  and  those  ladies  dwelt  a  long  time  on 
Stromboli. 

"  The  child  looked  at  the  volcano,  at  the  sea,  and  clapped 
her  little  hands,  repeating,  'Beautiful,  beautiful!'  We 
went  there  by  chance,  wandered  in  on  a  hired  yacht,  with- 
out object ;  it  was  difficult  to  stay  long,  for  that  is  an  empty 
island.  There  was  no  proper  place  to  live  in,  and  not  much 
to  eat ;  but  she,  as  if  with  foreknowledge  that  she  would 
regain  her  health  there,  would  not  leave  for  anything.  In 
fact,  in  a  month,  and  if  not  in  a  month,  in  two,  she  began 
to  be  herself,  and  see  what  a  reed  she  is." 

In  fact,  Lineta,  though  shapely  and  not  too  large,  in 
stature  was  somewhat  taller  than  Pani  Aneta.  Zavilovski 
looked  at  her  with  growing  interest.  Before  the  guests 
separated,  when  he  was  freed  at  last  from  imprisonment,  he 
approached  her,  and  said,  — 

"  I  have  never  seen  a  volcano,  and  I  have  no  idea  what 
impression  it  may  make." 

"  I  know  only  Vesuvius,"  answered  she ;  "  but  when  I 
saw  it  there  was  no  eruption." 

"  But  Stromboli  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  know  it." 

"  Then  I  have  heard  incorrectly,  for  —  your  aunt  —  " 

"  Yes,"  answered  Lineta,  "  I  don't  remember ;  I  was  small, 
I  suppose." 

And  on  her  face  displeasure  and  confusion  were 
reflected. 

Before  she  took  leave,  Pani  Aneta,  without  destroying 
her  role  of  charming  prattler,  invited  Zavilovski  for  some 
evening,  ''without  ceremony  and  without  a  dress-coat,  for 
such  a  spring  might  be  considered  summer,  and  in  summer 
freedom  is  the  most  agreeable.  That  such  a  man  as  you 
does  not  like  new  acquaintances,  I  know,  but  for  that  there 
is  a  simple  remedy :  consider  us  old  acquaintances.  We  are 
alone  most  generally.  Lineta  reads  something,  or  tells  what 
passes  through  her  head;  and  such  various  things  pass 
through  her  head  that  it  is  worth  while  to  hear  her,  espe- 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  369 

cially  for  a  person  who  beyond  others  is  in  a  position  to  feel 
and  understand  her." 

Panna  Lineta  pressed  his  hand  at  parting  with  unusual 
heartiness,  as  if  confirming  the  fact  that  they  could  and 
should  understand  each  other.  Zavilovski,  unused  to  society, 
was  a  little  dazed  by  the  words,  the  rustle  of  the  robes,  the 
eyes  of  those  ladies,  and  by  the  odor  of  iris  which  they  left 
behind.  He  felt  besides  some  weariness,  for  that  conversa- 
tion, though  free  and  apparently  natural,  lacked  the  repose 
which  was  always  found  in  the  words  of  Pani  Polanyetski 
and  Pani  Bigiel.  For  a  time  there  remained  with  him  the 
impression  of  a  disordered  dream. 

The  Bigiels  were  to  stay  to  dinner.  Pan  Stanislav  there- 
fore kept  Zavilovski.     They  began  to  talk  of  the  ladies. 

"  Well,  and  Panna  Castelli  ?  "  asked  Marynia. 

"They  have  much  imagination,"  answered  Zavilovski, 
after  a  moment's  hesitation.  "  Have  you  noticed  how  easy 
it  is  for  them  to  speak  in  images  ?  " 

"But  really,  what  an  interesting  young  lady  Lineta  is!  " 

Lineta  had  not  made  a  great  impression  on  Pan  Stanislav ; 
besides,  he  was  hungry  and  in  a  hurry  for  dinner,  so  he  said 
somewhat  impatiently,  — 

"  What  do  you  see  in  her  ?  Interesting  until  she  becomes 
an  e very-day  subject." 

"No;  Lineta  will  not  become  an  every -day  person,"  said 
Marynia.  "Only  those  ordinary,  simple  beings  become 
every -day  subjects  who  know  how  to  do  nothing  but  love." 

To  Zavilovski,  who  looked  at  her  that  moment,  it  seemed 
that  he  detected  a  shade  of  sadness.  Perhaps,  too,  she  was 
weak,  for  her  face  had  lily  tones. 

"Are  you  wearied  ?"  inquired  he. 

"  A  little,"  answered  she,  smiling. 

His  young,  impressionable  heart  beat  with  great  sympathy 
for  her.  "Slie  is  in  truth  a  lily,"  thought  he ;  and  in  com- 
parison with  her  sweet  charm  Pani  Osnovski  stood  before 
him  as  a  chattering  nut-cracker,  and  Panna  Castelli  as  the 
inanimate  head  of  a  statue.  At  first,  after  sight  of  Marynia, 
he  was  dreaming  of  a  woman  like  her ;  this  evening  he  be- 
gan to  dream,  not  of  one  like  her,  but  of  her.  And  since  he 
was  quickly  aware  of  everything  that  happened  in  him, 
•he  noticed  that  she  was  beginning  to  be  a  "  field  flower," 
but  a  beloved  one. 

Pan  Stanislav,  meeting  him  next  day  in  the  counting-room, 
asked,  — 

24 


370  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

"  Well,  did  the  dreainy  queen  come  to  you  in  a  vision  ?  " 
"No,"  answered  Zavilovski,  blushing. 
Pan  Stanislav,  seeing  that  blush,  laughed,  and  said,  — 
"Ha!  it's  difficult!     Every  one  must  pass  that;  I,  too, 
have  passed  it." 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  371 


CHAPTER  XLI. 

Marynia  did  not  complain  even  to  herself  of  her  hus- 
band. So  far  there  had  not  been  the  least  misunderstanding 
between  them.  But  she  was  forced  to  confess  that  genuine, 
very  great  happiness,  and  especially  very  great  love,  such 
as  she  had  imagined  when  Pan  Stanislav  was  her  betrothed, 
she  had  imagined  as  different.  Of  this  each  day  convinced 
her :  her  hopes  had  been  of  one  kind ;  reality  proved  to  be 
of  another.  Mavynia's  honest  nature  did  not  rebel  against 
this  reality;  but  a  shade  of  sadness  came  over  her,  and  the 
feeling  that  that  shade  might  in  time  be  the  basis  of  her 
life.  With  a  soul  full  of  good-will,  she  tried  to  explain  to 
herself  at  the  beginning  that  those  were  her  own  fancies. 
What  was  lacking  to  her,  and  in  what  could  Pan  Stanislav 
have  disappointed  her?  He  had  never  caused  her  pain 
purposely;  as  often  as  it  occurred  to  him  that  a  giveu  thing 
might  please  her,  he  tried  to  obtain  it;  he  was  liberal, 
careful  of  her  health;  at  times  he  covered  her  face  and 
hands  with  kisses,  —  in  a  word,  he  was  rather  kind  than 
ill-natured.  Still  there  was  something  lacking.  It  was 
difficult  for  Marynia  to  describe  this  in  one  word,  or  in 
many;  but  her  mind  was  too  clear  not  to  understand  what 
her  heart  felt  every  day  more  distinctly,  every  day  with 
more  sadness.  Something  was  wanting!  After  a  great 
and  solemn  holiday  of  love,  a  series  of  common  days  had 
set  in,  and  she  regretted  the  holiday;  she  would  have  it 
last  all  her  life;  she  saw  now,  with  sorrow,  that  to  her 
husband  this  common  life  seemed  precisely  what  was 
normal  and  wished  for.  It  was  not  bad,  such  as  it  was; 
but  it  was  not  that  high  happiness  which  "such  a  man 
should  be  able  to  feel,  create,  and  impart.  But  there  was 
a  question  of  other  things  also.  She  felt,  for  example, 
that  she  was  more  his  than  he  was  hers;  and  that  though 
she  gave  him  her  whole  soul,  he  returned  to  her  only  that 
part  of  his  which  he  had  designed  in  advance  for  home 
use.  It  is  true  that  she  said  to  herself,  "He  is  a  man; 
besides  me  he  has  a  whole  world  of  work  and  thought. 
But  she  had  hoped  once  that  he  would  take  her  by  the  hand 
and  lead  her  into  that  world,  —that  in  the  house,  at  least, 


372  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

he  would  share  it  with  her ;  at  present  she  could  not  even 
flatter  herself  that  he  would  do  so.  And  the  reality  was 
worse  than  she  had  imagined.  Pan  Stanislav,  as  he  ex- 
pressed himself,  took  her,  and  had  her;  and  when  their 
mutual  feeling  became  at  the  same  time  a  simple  mutual 
obligation,  he  judged  that  it  was  not  needful  otherwise  to 
care  for  her,  or  otherwise  to  be  occupied  with  her  than 
with  any  duty  of  every-day  life.  Tt  did  not  come  to  his 
head  simply  that  to  such  a  fire  it  was  not  enough  to  bring 
common  fuel,  such  as  is  put  in  a  chimney,  but  that  there 
was  need  to  sprinkle  on  it  frankincense  and  myrrh,  such 
as  is  sprinkled  before  an  altar.  If  a  man  were  to  tell  him 
something  like  this,  he  would  shrug  his  shoulders,  and 
look  on  him  as  a  sentimentalist.  Hence  there  was  in  him 
the  carefulness  of  a  husband,  perhaps,  but  not  the  anxiety 
of  a  lover,  —  concern,  watching,  or  awe  of  that  kind 
which,  in  the  lower  circles  of  earthly  feelings,  corresponds 
to  fear  of  God  in  religion.  On  a  time  when,  after  the 
sale  of  Kremen,  Marynia  was  indifferent  to  him,  he  felt 
and  passed  through  all  this;  but  now,  and  even  beginning 
with  Litka's  death,  when  he  received  the  assurance  that 
she  was  his  property,  he  thought  no  more  of  her  than  was 
necessary  to  think  of  property.  His  feeling,  resting  pre- 
eminently on  her  physical  charm,  possessed  what  it  wanted, 
and  was  at  rest;  while  time  could  only  vulgarize,  cool,  and 
dull  it. 

Even  now,  though  still  vivid,  it  lacks  the  alert  and 
careful  tenderness  which  existed,  for  example,  in  his  feel- 
ing for  Litka.  And  Marynia  noticed  this.  Why  was  it 
so?  To  this  she  could  not  answer;  but  still  she  saw 
clearly  that  she  was  for  this  man,  to  whom  she  wished  to 
be  everything,  something  more  common  and  less  esteemed 
than  the  dead  Litka. 

It  did  not  occur  to  her,  and  she  could  not  imagine  by 
any  means,  that  the  only  reason  was  this,  — that  that  child 
was  not  his,  while  she  had  given  him  soul  and  body. 
She  judged  that  the  more  she  gave,  the  more  she  ought  to 
receive  and  have.  But  time  brought  her  in  this  regard 
many  disappointments.  She  could  not  but  notice,  too,  that 
all  are  under  a  certain  charm  of  hers;  that  all  value  her, 
praise  her;  that  Svirski,  Bigiel,  Zavilovski,  and  even  Pan 
Osnovski,  look  on  her,  not  only  with  admiration,  but  with 
enthusiasm  almost ;  while  "  Stas  "  regards  her  distinguish- 
ing traits  less  than  any  man.    It  bad  not  occurred  to  her  for 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL  373 

a  moment  that  he  could  be  incapable  of  seeing  in  her  and 
valuing  that  which  others  saw  and  valued  so  easily.  What 
was  the  cause,  then,  of  this?  These  questions  tormented 
her  night  and  day  now.  She  saw  that  Pan  Stauislav 
feigned  to  have  in  all  cases  a  character  somewhat  colder 
and  more  serious  than  he  had  in  reality,  but  to  her  this  did 
not  seem  a  sufficient  answer.  Uufortuuately  only  one 
answer  remained :  "  He  does  not  love  me  as  he  might,  and 
therefore  does  not  value  me  as  others  do."  There  was  in 
this  as  much  truth  as  disappointment  and  sadness. 

The  instinct  of  a  Avoman,  which,  in  these  cases,  never 
deceives  her,  warned  Marynia  that  she  had  made  an  un- 
common impression  on  Zavilovski;  that  that  impression 
increased  with  every  meeting.  And  this  thought  did  not 
make  her  indignant;  she  did  not  burst  out  with  the  angry 
question,  "How  dare  he?"  since,  for  that  matter,  he  had 
not  dared  anything,  —  on  the  contrary,  it  gave  her  a  certain 
comfort,  certain  confidence  in  her  own  charm,  which  at 
moments  she  had  begun  to  lose,  but  withal  it  roused  the 
greater  sorrow  that  such  honor,  such  enthusiasm,  should  be 
shown  her  by  some  stranger,  and  not  by  "Stas."  As  to 
Zavilovski,  she  felt  nothing  for  him  save  a  great  sympathy 
and  good-will;  hence  her  thoughts  remained  pure.  She 
was  incapable  of  amusing  herself  through  vanity  by  the 
suffering  of  another;  and  for  that  reason,  not  wishing  him 
to  go  too  far,  she  associated  herself  willingly  with  the 
plan  of  Pani  Aneta  of  bringing  him  into  more  intimate 
relations  with  Panna  Castelli,  though  that  plan  seemed  to 
her  as  abrupt  as  it  was  unintelligible.  Moreover,  her  heart 
and  mind  were  occupied  thoroughly  with  the  questions: 
Why  does  that  kind,  wise,  beloved  "Stas"  not  go  to  the 
heights  with  her?  why  does  he  not  value  her  as  he  might? 
why  does  he  only  love  her,  but  is  not  in  love  with  her? 
why  does  he  consider  her  love  as  something  belonging  to 
him,  but  not  as  something  precious?  whence  is  this,  and 
where  lies  the  cause  of  it? 

Every  common,  selfish  nature  would  have  found  all  the 
fault  in  him ;  ^larynia  found  it  in  herself.  It  is  true  that 
she  made  the  discovery  through  foreign  aid;  but  she  was 
always  so  eager  to  remove  from  "Stas"  every  respon- 
sibility, and  take  it  on  herself,  that  though  it  caused  fear, 
this  discovery  brought  her  delight  almost. 

Once,  on  an  afternoon,  she  was  sitting  by  herself,  with 
her   hands  on  her  knees,  lost  in  thoughts  and   questions 


374  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

to  which  she  could  find  no  answer,  when  the  door  opened, 
and  in  it  appeared  the  white  head-dress  and  dark  robe  of 
a  Sister  of  Charity. 

"Emilka!"  cried  Marynia,  with  delight. 

"Yes;  it  is  I,"  said  the  Sister.  "This  is  a  free  day 
for  me,  and  I  wished  to  visit  thee.  "Where  is  Pan  Stan- 
islav?" 

"Stas  is  at  the  Mashkos,  but  he  will  return  soon.  Ah, 
how  glad  he  will  be!     Sit  down  and  rest." 

Pani  Emilia  sat  down  and  began  to  talk.  "I  should  run 
in  oftener,"  said  she,  "but  I  have  no  time.  Since  this  is 
a  free  day,  I  was  at  Litka's.  If  you  could  see  how  green 
the  place  is,  and  what  birds  are  there !  " 

"We  were  there  a  few  days  ago.  All  is  blooming;  and 
such  rest !     What  a  pity  that  Stas  is  not  at  home !  " 

"True;  besides,  he  has  a  number  of  Litka's  letters. 
I  should  like  to  ask  him  to  lend  them  to  me.  Next  week 
I  '11  run  in  again  and  return  them." 

Pani  Emilia  spoke  calmly  of  Litka  now.  Maybe  it  was 
because  there  remained  of  herself  only  the  shadow  of  a 
living  person,  which  was  soon  to  be  blown  away;  but  for 
the  time  there  was  in  it  undisturbed  calm.  Her  mind  was 
not  absorbed  so  exclusively  now  by  misfortune,  and  that 
previous  indifference  to  everything  not  Litka  had  passed. 
Having  become  a  Sister  of  Charity,  she  appeared  again 
among  people,  and  had  learned  to  feel  everything  which 
made  their  fortune  or  misfortune,  their  joy  or  their  sorrow, 
or  even  pleasure  or  suffering. 

"But  how  nice  it  is  in  this  house!  After  our  naked 
walls,  everything  here  seems  so  rich  to  me.  Pan  Stanislav 
was  very  indolent  at  one  time :  he  visited  the  Bigiels  and 
us,  never  wished  to  be  elsewhere;  but  now  I  suppose  he 
bestirs  himself,  and  you  receive  many  people?" 

"No,"  answered  Marynia;  "we  visit  only  the  Mashkos, 
Pani  Bronich,  and  the  Osnovskis." 

"But  wait!  I  know  Pani  Osnovski;  I  knew  her  before 
she  was  married.  I  knew  the  Broniches,  too,  and  their 
niece;  but  she  had  not  grown  up  then.  Pan  Bronich  died 
two  years  ago.     Thou  seest  how  I  know  every  one." 

Marynia  began  to  laugh.  "Keally,  more  people  than  I 
do.  I  made  the  acquaintance  of  the  Osnovskis  in  Rome 
only." 

"  But  I  lived  so  many  years  in  Warsaw,  and  everything 
came  to  my  ears.      I  was  in  the  house  .apparently,  but 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  375 

the  world  occupied  me.  So  frivolous  was  I  in  those 
days!  For  that  matter,  thy  present  Pan  Stas  knew  Pani 
Osnovski." 

"He  told  me  so." 

"They  met  at  public  balls.  At  that  time  she  was  to 
marry  Pan  Kopovski.  There  were  tears  and  despair  for 
her  father  opposed  it.  But  she  succeeded  well,  did' she 
not?     Pan  Usuovski  was  always  a  very  good  man.'" 

"And  to  her  he  is  the  very  best.     But  1  did  not  know 
that  slie  was  to  marry  Kopovski;  and  that  astonishes  me 
she  is  so  intelligent."  ' 

"Praise  to  God,  she  is  happy,  if  she  would  think  so! 
Happiness  is  a  rare  thing,  and  should  be  used  well.  I 
have  learned  now  to  look  at  the  world  quite  impartially, 
as  only  those  can  who  expect  nothing  for  themselves  from 
it;  and  kuowest  thou  what  comes  more  than  once  to  my 
head?  That  happiness  is  like  eyes,  — any  little  mote,  and 
at  once  tears  will  follow." 

Marynia  laughed  a  little  sadly,  and  said,  — 

"Oil  that 's  a  great  truth." 

A  moment  of  silence  ensued;  then  Pani  Emilia,  looking 
attentively  at  Marynia,  laid  her  transparent  hand  on  her 
hand  mildly,  and  asked,  — 

"  But  thou,  Marynia,  art  happy,  art  thou  not?  " 

Such  a  desire  to  weep  seized  Marynia  on  a  sudden  that 
she  resisted  it  only  with  the  utmost  effort;  that  lasted, 
however,  one  twinkle.  Her  whole  honest  soul  trembled 
suddenly  at  the  thought  that  her  tears  or  sorrow  would  be 
a  kind  of  complaint  against  her  husband ;  therefore  she 
mastered  her  emotion  by  strength  of  will,  and  said,  — 

"If  only  Stas  is  happy!  "  And  she  raised  her  eyes,  now 
perfectly  calm,  to  Pani  Emilia,  who  said,  — 

"  Litka  will  obtain  that  for  thee.  I  inquired  only  because 
thou  wert  in  appearance  somehow  gloomy,  as  I  entered. 
But  I  know  best  how  he  loved  thee,  and  how  unhappy  he 
was  when  thou  wert  angry  with  him  because  of  Kremen." 

Marynia's  face  was  bright  with  a  smile.  So  pleasant  to 
her  was  every  word  of  his  former  love  that  she  was  ready 
to  listen  to  that  kind  of  narrative,  even  if  it  went  on 
forever. 

Pani  Emilia  continued,  while  touching  her  hand:  "But 
thou,  ugly  child,  wert  so  cruel  as  neither  to  value  nor 
regard  his  true  attachment,  and  I  was  angry  at  times 
with  thee.    At  times  I  feared  for  the  honest  Pan  Stanislav; 


376  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

I  was  afraid  that  he  would  grow  sick  of  life,  lose  his  mind, 
or  become  misanthropic.  For  seest  thou  when  one  wrinkle 
is  made  in  the  depth  of  the  heart,  it  may  not  be  smoothed 
for  a  lifetime." 

Marynia  raised  her  head,  and  began  to  blink  as  if  some 
light  had  struck  her  eyes  suddenly. 

"Emilka,  Emilka!"  cried  she,  "how  wise  thy  discourse 


is 


f » 


Pani  Emilia  was  called  now  "Sister  Aniela;"  but  Ma- 
rynia always  gave  her  her  old  name. 

"What!  wise?  I  am  just  talkiDg  of  old  times.  But 
Litka  will  implore  for  thee  happiness,  which  God  will 
grant,  for  thou  and  Stas  deserve  it,  both  of  you." 

And  she  made  ready  to  go.  Marynia  tried  to  detain  her 
till  "  Stas  "  came,  but  in  vain,  for  work  was  awaiting  her 
in  the  institution.  She  chatted,  however,  at  the  door, 
fifteen  minutes  longer,  in  the  manner  of  women;  at  last  she 
went  away,  promising  to  visit  them  again  the  coming 
week. 

Marynia  returned  to  her  armchair  at  the  window,  and, 
resting  her  head  on  her  hand,  fell  to  meditating  on  Pani 
Emilia's  words;  after  a  while  she  said,  in  an  undertone,  — 

"The  fault  is  mine." 

It  seemed  to  her  that  she  had  the  key  to  the  enigma,  — 
she  had  not  known  how  to  respect  a  power  so  true  and  so 
mighty  as  love  is.  And  now,  in  her  terrified  heart,  that 
love  seemed  a  kind  of  offended  divinity  which  punishes. 
In  the  old  time  Pan  Stanislav  had  been  on  his  knees  in 
her  presence.  As  often  as  they  met,  he  had  looked  into 
her  eyes,  watching  for  forgiveness  from  her  heart,  and 
from  those  memories,  pleasant,  departed,  but  dear,  which 
connected  them.  If  at  that  time  she  had  brought  herself  to 
straightforwardness,  to  magnanimity ;  if  she  had  extended 
her  hands  to  him,  as  her  secret  feeling  commanded, — he 
would  have  been  grateful  all  his  life,  he  would  have 
honored  her,  he  would  have  honored  and  loved  with  the 
greater  tenderness,  the  more  he  felt  his  own  fault  and  her 
goodness.  But  she  had  preferred  to  swaddle  and  nurse  her 
feeling  of  offence,  and  coquet  at  the  same  time  with  Mashko. 
When  it  was  necessary  to  forget,  she  would  not  forget; 
when  it  was  necessary  to  forgive,  she  would  not  forgive. 
She  preferred  to  suffer  herself,  provided  he  suffered  also. 
She  had  given  her  hand  to  Pan  Stanislav  when  she  could 
not  do  otherwise,  when  not  to  give  it  would  have  been 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  877 

simply  dishonorable  and  stupid  stubbornness.  That  stifled 
love,  it  is  true,  rose  up  in  its  whole  irrepressible  might 
then,  and  she  loved,  heart  and  soul,  but  too  late.  Love 
had  been  injured;  something  had  broken,  something  had 
perished.  In  his  heart  there  had  come  an  ill-omened 
wrinkle  like  that  of  which  Pani  Emilia  had  spoken;  and 
now  she,  Marynia,  was  harvesting  only  what  she  had  sown 
with  her  own  hand. 

He  is  not  guilty  of  anything  in  this  case,  and  if  any  one 
has  spoiled  another's  life,  it  is  not  he  who  has  spoiled  her 
life;  it  is  she  who  has  spoiled  his. 

Such  a  terror  possessed  her  at  this  thought,  and  such 
sorrow,  that  for  a  moment  she  looked  at  the  future  with 
perfect  amazement.  And  she  wished  to  weep,  too,  and 
weep  like  a  little  child.  If  Pani  Emilia  had  not  gone,  she 
would  have  done  so  on  her  shoulder.  She  was  so  pene- 
trated with  the  weight  of  her  own  offences  that  if  at  that 
moment  some  one  had  come  and  tried  to  free  her  of  this 
weight,  if  this  one  had  said  to  her,  "Thou  art  as  guilty  as 
a  dove,'*  she  would  have  considered  the  speech  dishonest. 
The  most  terrible  point  in  her  mental  conflict  was  this,  — 
that  at  the  first  moment  the  loss  seemed  irreparable,  and 
that  in  the  future  it  might  be  only  worse  and  worse,  because 
"  Stas  "  would  love  her  less  and  less,  and  would  have  the 
right  to  love  her  less  and  less,  —  in  one  word,  she  saw  no 
consolation  before  her. 

Logic  said  this  to  her:  "To-day  it  is  good  in  comparison 
with  what  it  may  be  to-morrow;  after  to-morrow,  a  month, 
or  a  year.     And  here  it  is  a  question  of  a  lifetime!  " 

And  she  began  to  exert  her  poor  tortured  head  to  dis- 
cover, if  not  a  road,  at  least  some  path,  by  which  it  would 
be  possible  to  issue  from  those  snares  of  unhappiness.  At 
last,  after  a  long  effort,  after  God  knows  how  many  swal- 
lowed tears,  it  seems  to  her  that  she  sees  a  light,  and  that 
that  light,  in  proportion  as  she  looks  at  it,  increases. 

There  is,  however,  something  mightier  than  the  logic  of 
misfortune,  mightier  than  committed  offences,  mightier 
than  an  offended  divinity,  which  knows  nothing  but  ven- 
geance, —  and  this  is  the  mercy  of  God. 

She  has  offended ;  therefore  she  ought  to  correct  herself. 
It  is  needful,  then,  to  love  "Stas,"  so  that  he  may  find 
all  which  has  perished  in  his  heart;  it  is  needful  to  have 
patience,  and  not  only  not  to  complain  of  her  present  lot, 
but  to  thank  God  and  "Stas"  that  it  is  such  as  it  is.     if 


378  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

greater  griefs  and  diflBculties  should  come,  it  is  necessary 
to  hide  them  in  her  heart  in  silence,  and  endure  long,  very 
long,  even  whole  years,  till  the  mercy  of  God  comes. 

The  path  began  to  change  then  into  a  highway.  "I 
shall  not  go  astray,"  said  Marynia  to  herself.  She  wanted 
to  weep  from  great  joy  then ;  but  she  judged  that  she  could 
not  permit  tliat.  Besides,  "Stas"  might  return  at  any 
moment,  and  he  must  find  her  with  dry  eyes. 

In  fact,  he  returned  soon.  Marynia  wished  at  the  first 
moment  to  throw  herself  on  his  neck,  but  she  felt  such 
guilt  in  reference  to  him  that  some  sudden  timidity  stopped 
her;  and  he,  kissing  her  on  the  forehead,  inquired,  — 

"Was  any  one  here?" 

"Emilia  was,  but  she  could  not  stay  longer.  She  will 
come  next  week." 

He  was  irritated  at  this. 

"  But,  ray  God !  thou  knowest  that  it  is  such  a  pleasure 
for  me  to  see  her;  why  not  let  me  know?  Why  didst  thou 
not  think  of  me,  knowing  where  I  was?" 

She,  like  a  child  explaining  itself,  spoke  with  a  voice  in 
which  tears  were  trembling,  but  in  which  there  was  at  the 
same  time  a  certain  trust,  — 

"No,  Stas,  on  the  contrary,  as  I  love,  I  was  thinking 
all  the  time  of  thee." 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  879 


CHAPTER  XLII. 

"But  you  see  I  was  there,"  said  Zavilovski,  joyously,  at 
the  Bigiels'.  "  They  looked  on  me  somewhat  as  they  might 
on  a  panther,  or  a  wolf,  but  I  turned  out  a  very  tame 
creature;  I  tore  no  one,  killed  no  one,  answered  with  more 
or  less  presence  of  mind.  No;  I  have  long  since  considered 
that  it  is  easier  to  live  with  people  than  it  seems,  and  only 
in  the  first  moments  have  I  a  wish  always  to  run  away. 
But  those  ladies  are  indeed  very  free." 

"I  beg  you  not  to  put  us  off,  but  tell  exactly  how  it 
was,"  said  Pani  Bigiel. 

"How  it  was?  Well,  first,  I  entered  the  inclosure  of 
the  villa,  and  did  not  know  what  to  do  further,  or  where 
the  Osnovskis  lived,  or  Pani  Bronich;  whether  to  pay 
them  a  visit  at  once,  or  whether  it  was  necessary  to  visit 
both  separately." 

"Separately,"  said  Pan  Stanislav;  "Pani  Bronich  has 
separate  apartments,  though  they  have  one  drawing-room, 
which  they  use  in  common." 

"Well,  I  found  all  in  that  drawing-room;  and  Pani 
Osnovski  first  brought  me  out  of  trouble,  for  she  said  that 
she  would  share  me  with  Pani  Bronich,  and  that  I  should 
make  two  visits  at  one  time.  I  found  Pani  Mashko  there 
and  Pan  Kopovski;  and  he  is  such  a  man,  so  beautiful 
that  he  ought  to  have  on  his  head  one  of  those  velvet- 
crowned  caps  which  jewellers  wear.     Who  is  Kopovski?" 

"An  idiot!"  answered  Pan  Stanislav.  "In  that  is  con- 
tained his  name,  his  manner  of  life,  his  occupation,  and 
personal  marks.  Another  description  of  the  man  would 
not  be  needed  even  in  a  passport." 

"Now  I  understand,"  said  Zavilovski;  *'and  certain 
words  which  I  heard  have  become  clear  for  me.  That 
gentleman  was  sitting,  and  the  young  ladies  were  painting 
him.  Pani  Osnovski,  his  full  face  in  oil;  Panna  Castelli, 
his  profile  in  water-colors.  Both  had  print  skirts  over 
their  dresses,  and  both  were  beautiful.  Evidently  Pani 
Osnovski  is  just  beginning  to  paint,  but  Panna  Castelli  has 
had  much  practice." 

"Of  what  did  they  talk?" 


380  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.     • 

Zavilovski  turned  to  Marynia.  "  First,  those  ladies  asked 
about  your  health ;  1  told  them  that  you  looked  better  and 
better." 

He  did  not  say,  however,  that  on  that  occasion  he  had 
blushed  like  a  student,  and  that  at  present  he  consoled 
himself  only  with  the  thought  that  all  had  been  so  occupied 
in  painting  that  they  did  not  notice  him,  in  which  he  was 
mistaken.  He  was  confused  now  a  little,  and,  wishing  to 
hide  this,  continued,  — 

"Later  we  spoke  of  painting,  of  course,  and  portraits. 
I  observed  that  Panna  Castelli  took  something  from  the 
head  of  Kopovski ;  she  answered  me,  — 

"  •  It  is  not  I,  but  nature.' 

"She  is  a  witty  young  lady;  she  said  this  in  a  perfectly 
audible  voice.  I  began  to  laugh,  all  the  others  too,  and 
with  us  Kopovski  himself.  He  must  have  an  accommodat- 
ing character.  He  declared  later  on  that  if  lie  looked  worse 
to-day  than  usual,  it  was  because  he  had  not  slept  enough, 
and  that  he  was  in  a  hurry  for  the  embraces  of  Orpheus." 

"Orpheus?" 

"That's  what  he  said.  Pan  Osnovski  corrected  him 
without  ceremony ;  but  he  did  not  agree  to  the  correction, 
saying  Orpheus  at  least  ten  times,  and  that  he  remem- 
bered well.  Those  ladies  amused  themselves  a  little  with 
him,  but  he  is  such  a  fine-looking  fellow  that  they  are 
glad  to  paint  him.  But  what  an  artist  Panna  Castelli  is! 
When  she  went  to  showing  me  various  plain  surfaces  with 
the  brush,  and  lines  on  the  portraits  of  Pan  Kopovski, 
which  she  had  begun,  she  touched  colors,  '  What  a  line 
that  is!  and  what  tones  these  are!'  I  must  do  her  the 
justice  to  say  that  she  looked  at  the  time  like  one  of  the 
Muses.  She  told  me  that  it  pleases  her  beyond  everything 
to  paint  portraits,  and  that  she  meditates  on  a  face  to 
begin  with,  as  on  a  model,  and  that  she  dreams  of  those 
heads  in  which  there  is  anything  uncommon." 

"  Oh,  ho  !  and  you  will  appear  to  her  in  a  dream  first, 
and  then  sit  for  her,  I  am  sure,"  said  Marynia.  "And 
that  will  be  welh" 

Zavilovski  added  with  a  voice  somewhat  uncertain,  — 

"  She  told  me,  it  is  true,  that  that  is  a  tribute  which  she 
likes  and  extorts  from  good  acquaintances;  she  did  not 
turn  to  me,  however,  directly,  with  this  request.  Had  it 
not  been  for  Pani  Bronich,  there  would  have  been  no  talk 
of  it." 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  381 

"Pani  Bronich  saved  the  Muse  the  trouble,"  said  Pan 
Stanislav. 

"But  that  will  be  well,"  said  Marynia. 

"Why?"  inquired  Zavilovski;  and  he  looked  at  her  with 
a  glance  at  ouee  submissive  and  alarmed.  The  idea  that 
she  might  push  him  to  another  woman  purposely,  because 
she  divined  what  was  passing  in  his  heart,  attracted  him, 
and  at  the  same  time  filled  him  with  fear. 

"Because,"  answered  Marynia,  "I,  indeed,  am  almost 
unacquainted  with  Panna  Lineta,  and  judge  only  from  my 
first  impressions  and  from  what  I  hear  of  her;  but  it  seems, 
to  me  that  hers  is  an  uncommon  nature,  and  that  there  is 
something  deep  in  her  heart.  It  is  well,  then,  that  you 
should  become  acquainted." 

"I  also  judge  from  first  impressions,"  answered  Zavi- 
lovski, quieted;  "and  it  is  true  that  Pani  Castelli  seems  to 
me  less  shallow  than  Pani  Osnovski.  In  general,  those 
are  beautiful  and  pleasant  ladies;  but  —  maybe  1  cannot  de- 
line  it,  because  I  am  not  acquainted  enough  with  society  — 
but,  coming  away  from  them,  I  had  a  feeling  as  if  I  had 
been  travelling  on  the  railway  with  exceedingly  charming 
foreign  ladies,  who  amused  themselves  by  conversing  very 
wittily  —  but  nothing  more.  Something  foreign  is  felt  in 
them.  Pani  Osnovski,  for  example,  is  exactly  like  an 
orchid,  — a  flower  very  peculiar  and  beautiful,  but  a  kind 
of  foreign  flower.  Panna  Castelli  is  also  that  way,  and  in 
her  there  is  nothing  homelike.  With  them  there  is  no 
feeling  that  one  grew  up  on  the  same  field,  under  the  same 
rain  and  same  sunshine." 

"What  intuition  this  poet  has!  "  said  Pan  Stanislav. 

Zavilovski  became  so  animated  that  on  his  delicate  fore- 
head the  veins  in  the  form  of  the  letter  Y  became  outlined 
more  distinctly.  He  felt  that  his  blame  of  those  ladies  was 
also  praise  for  Marynia,  and  that  made  him  eloquent. 

"Besitles,"  continued  he,  "there  exists  a  certain  instinct 
which  divines  the  real  good  wishes  of  people;  it  is  not 
divined  in  that  house.  They  are  pleasant,  agreeable,  but 
their  society  has  the  appearance  of  form  only;  thereforfe  I 
think  that  an  earnest  man,  who  becomes  attached  to  people 
easily,  might  experience  there  many  deceptions.  It  is  a 
bitter  and  humiliating  thing  to  mistake  social  tares  for 
wheat.  As  to  me,  that  is  just  why  I  fear  people;  for 
though  Pan  Stanislav  says  that  I  have  intuition,  I  know 
well  that  at  the  root  of  the  matter  I  am  simple.      And 


382  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

such  things  pain  me  tremendously.  Simply  my  nerves 
cannot  endure  them.  I  remember  that  when  still  a  child 
I  noticed  how  people  acted  toward  me  in  one  way  before 
my  parents,  and  in  another  when  my  parents  were  absent; 
that  was  one  of  the  great  vexations  of  my  childhood.  It 
seemed  to  me  contemptible,  and  pained  me,  as  if  I  myself 
had  done  something  contemptible." 

"Because  you  have  an  honest  nature,"  said  Pani  Bigiel. 

He  stretched  forth  his  long  arms,  with  which  he  gesticu- 
lated, when,  forgetting  his  timidity,  he  spoke  freely,  and 
said, — 

"  0  sincerity  !   in  art  and  in  life,  that  is  the  one  thing  ! " 

But  Marynia  began,  in  defence  of  those  ladies  :  "  People, 
and  especially  men,  are  frequently  unjust,  and  take  their 
own  judgments,  or  even  suppositions,  for  reality.  As  to 
Pani  Osnovski  and  Lineta,  how  is  it  possible  to  suspect 
them  of  insincerity?  They  are  joyful,  kind,  cordial,  and 
whence  should  that  come  if  not  from  good  hearts  ? " 
Then,  turning  to  Zavilovski,  she  began  at  him,  partly  in 
earnest,  partly  in  jest,  "  You  have  not  such  an  honest 
nature  as  Pani  Bigiel  says,  for  those  ladies  praise  you,  and 
you  criticise  them  —  " 

But  Pan  Stanislav  interrupted  her  with  his  usual  vivac- 
ity :  "  Oh,  thou  art  an  innocent,  and  measurest  all  things 
with  thy  own  measure.  Wilt  thou  understand  this,  that 
petty  cordiality  and  kindness  may  flow  also  from  selfish- 
ness, which  likes  to  be  cosey  and  comfortable. 

"  If  you,"  said  he,  turning  to  Zavilovski,  "  pay  such 
homage  to  sincerity,  it  is  sitting  before  you!  You  have 
here  a  real  type  of  it." 

"  I  know  that !  I  know  that !  "  said  Zavilovski,  with 
warmth. 

"  But  is  it  thy  wish  to  have  me  otherwise  ?  "  inquired 
Marynia,  laughing. 

He  laughed  also,  and  answered :  "  No,  I  would  not. 
But,  by  the  way,  what  a  happiness  it  is  that  thou  ar^  not  too 
small,  and  hast  no  need  of  heels ;  for  shouldst  thou  wear 
them,  chronic  inflammation  of  the  conscience  would  strike 
thee  for  deceiving  people." 

Marynia,  seeing  that  Zavilovski's  eyes  were  turned  tow- 
ard her  feet,  hid  them  under  the  table  involuntarily,  and, 
changing  the  subject,  said,  — 

"But  your  volume  is  coming  out  these  days^  I  think  ?  " 

"  It  would  have  been  published  already,  but  I.  added  one 
poem ;  that  causes  delay." 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  383 

''And  may  we  know  what  the  poem  is  called  ?" 

•■'Lilia"  (Lily). 

"Is  it  not  Lilia-Lineta  ? " 

"  No ;  it  is  not  Lilia-Lineta." 

Marynia's  face  grew  serious.  For  her,  it  was  easy  to 
divine  from  the  answer  that  the  poem  was  to  her  and 
about  her ;  hence  she  felt  a  sudden  vexation,  because  she 
alone  and  one  other,  Zavilovski,  knew  this,  and  that 
there  had  arisen  between  them,  for  this  cause,  a  sort  of 
secret  known  to  them  only.  This  seemed  to  her  not  in 
accord  with  that  honesty  of  hers  mentioned  a  moment 
earlier,  and  a  kind  of  sin  against  "  Stas."  For  the  first 
time,  she  saw  the  mental  trouble  into  which  a  woman  may 
fall,  even  though  she  be  most  in  love  with  her  husband 
and  most  innocent,  if  only  the  not  indifferent  look  of  an- 
other man  fall  on  her.  It  seemed  to  her  impossible,  in 
any  case,  to  lead  her  husband  into  the  secret  of  her  suppo- 
sition. For  the  first  time,  she  was  seized  by  a  certain 
anger  at  Zavilovski,  who  felt  this  straightway  with  his 
nerves  of  an  artist,  just  as  the  barometer  reflects  a  change 
of  atmosphere ;  and,  being  a  man  without  experience,  he 
took  the  matter  tragically.  He  imagined  that  Marynia 
would  close  her  doors  on  him,  would  hate  him,  that  he 
would  not  be  able  to  see  her ;  and  the  world  appeared  in 
mourning  colors  all  at  once  to  him.  In  his  artistic  nature 
there  existed  a  real  mixture  of  selfishness  and  fantasy  with 
genuine  tenderness,  well-nigh  feminine,  which  demanded 
love  and  warmth.  Having  become  acquainted  with  Marynia, 
he  cleaved  to  her  with  the  selfishness  of  a  sybarite,  to 
whom  such  a  feeling  is  precious,  and  who  thinks  of  nothing 
else;  next,  his  fancy  raised  her  to  poetic  heights,  and 
enhanced  her  charm  a  hundredfold,  made  her  a  being  al- 
most beyond  the  earth ;  and,  finally,  his  native  sensitive- 
ness, to  which  loneliness  and  the  want  of  a  near  heart 
caused  actual  pain,  was  so  moved  by  the  goodness  with 
which  he  was  received,  that  from  all  this  was  produced 
something  having  every  appearance  of  love.  A  physical 
basis  was  lacking  to  this  feeling,  however.  Besides  his 
capacity  for  impulses,  as  ideal  as  the  soul  itself  is,  Zavi- 
lovski, like  most  artists,  had  the  thoughts  of  a  satyr. 
Those  thoughts  were  sleeping  at  that  time.  He  arrayed 
Marynia  in  so  many  glories  and  so  much  sacredness  that 
he  did  not  desire  her;  and  if,  against  every  likelihood,  she 
were  to  cast  herself  on  his  neck  unexpectedly,  she  wouia 


384  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

cease  to  be  for  him  aesthetically  that  which  she  was,  aud 
which  he  wished  her  to  be  in  future,  —  that  is,  a  stainless 
being.  All  the  more,  therefore,  did  he  judge  that  he  could 
permit  himself  such  a  feeling,  and  all  the  more  was  he 
grieved  now  to  part  with  that  intoxication  which  had  lulled 
his  thought  in  such  a  beautiful  manner,  and  filled  the  void 
of  his  life.  It  had  been  so  pleasant  for  him,  on  returning 
home,  to  have  a  womanly  figure  at  whose  feet  he  had  placed 
his  soul,  —  to  have  one  of  whom  to  dream,  and  to  whom  he 
might  write  verses.  Now  he  understands  that  if  she  dis- 
covers definitely  what  is  taking  place  in  him,  if  he  does  not 
succeed  in  hiding  this  .better  than  hitherto,  their  relations 
cannot  endure,  and  the  former  void,  more  painful  than 
ever,  will  surround  him  a  second  time.  He  began  then 
to  think  how  he  was  to  escape  this,  and  how,  not  only  not 
to  lose  anything  of  what  he  had  enjoyed  so  far,  but  to 
see  Marynia  still  oftener.  In  his  quick  imagination,  there 
was  no  lack  of  methods.  When  he  had  made  a  hasty 
review,  he  found  and  chose  one  which,  as  it  seemed  to  him, 
led  directly  to  his  object. 

"  I  will  fall  in  love,  as  it  were,  with  Panna  Castelli,"  said 
he  to  himself,  "and  will  confess  to  Pani  Polanyetski  my 
torments.  That  not  only  will  not  separate  us,  but  will 
bring  us  nearer.     I  will  make  her  my  patroness." 

And  straightway  he  begins  to  arrange  the  thing  as  if  he 
were  arranging  objects.  He  imagines  that  he  is  in  love 
with  that  "  dreamy  queen ; "  that  he  is  unhappy,  and  that 
he  will  confess  his  secret  to  Marynia,  who  will  listen  to 
him  willingly,  with  eyes  moist  from  pity,  and,  like  a  real 
sister,  will  place  her  hand  on  his  head.  This  play  of  fancy 
seemed  to  him  so  actual,  and  his  sensitiveness  was  so  great, 
that  he  composed  expressions  with  which  he  would  confess 
to  Marynia;  he  found  simple  and  touching  ones,  and 'he 
did  this  with  such  occupation  that  he  himself  was  moved 
sincerely. 

Marynia,  returning  home  with  her  husband,  thought  of 
that  poem  entitled  "  Lilia,"  which  had  delayed  the  issue  of 
the  book.  Like  a  real  woman,  she  was  somewhat  curious 
about  it,  and  feared  it  a  little.  She  feared  too  in  general 
the  difficulty  which  the  future  might  bring  in  the  relation 
with  Zavilovski.  And  under  the  influence  of  these  fears 
she  said,  — 

"Knowest  thou  of  what  I  am  thinking?  That  Lineta 
would  be  a  great  prize  for  Zavilovski." 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  385 

«  Tell  nie,"  answered  Pan  Stanislav,  "  what  shot  this  Zavi- 
lovski  and  that  girl  into  thy  head." 

"  I,  my  Stas,  am  not  a  matchmaker,  I  say  only  that  it 
would  not  be  bad.  Aneta  Osnovski  is  rather  a  hot  head, 
it  is  true  ;  but  she  is  so  lively,  such  a  lire  spark." 

"  Abrupt,  not  lively ;  but  believe  me  that  she  is  not  so 
simple  as  she  seems,  and  that  she  has  her  own  little  per- 
sonal plan  in  everything.  Sometimes  I  think  that  Panna 
Lineta  concerns  her  as  much  as  she  does  me,  and  that  at 
the  root  of  all  this  something  else  is  hidden." 

"  What  could  it  be  ?  " 

"I  don't  know,  and  I  don't  know,  perhaps, because  I  don't 
care  much.     In  general,  I  have  no  faith  in  those  women." 

Their  conversation  was  interrupted  by  Mashko,  who  was 
just  driving  in  by  the  road  before  their  house ;  and,  seeing 
them,  he  hastened  to  greet  Marynia,  and  said  then  to  Pan 
Stanislav,  — 

"  It  is  well  that  we  have  met,  for  to-morrow  I  am  going 
away  for  a  couple  of  days,  and  to-day  is  my  time  for  pay- 
ment, so  I  bring  thee  the  money." 

"  I  have  just  been  at  your  father's,"  said  he,  turning  to 
Marynia.  "  Pan  Plavitski  seems  in  perfect  health ;  but  he 
told  me  that  he  yearns  for  the  country  and  land  manage- 
ment, therefore  he  is  thinking  whether  to  buy  some  little 
place  near  the  city,  or  not.  I  told  him  that  if  we  win  the 
will  case  he  can  stay  at  Ploshov." 

Marynia  did  not  like  this  conversation,  in  which  there 
was  evident,  moreover,  a  slight  irony  ;  hence  she  did  not 
wish  to  continue  it.  After  a  while  Pan  Stanislav  took 
Mashko  to  his  study,  — 

"  Then  is  all  going  well  ?  "  asked  he. 

"Here  is  the  instalment  due  on  my  debt,"  answered 
Mashko  ;  "  be  so  kind  as  to  give  a  receipt." 

Pan  Stanislav  sat  down  at  his  desk,  and  wrote  a  receipt. 

"But  now  there  is  another  affair,"  continued  Mashko: 
"I  sold  some  oak  in  Kremen  once,  on  condition  that  I 
might  redeem  it,  returning  the  price  and  a  stipulated  in- 
terest. Here  is  the  price  and  the  interest.  I  trust  that 
thou  hast  nothing  to  add ;  I  can  only  thank  thee  for  a 
real  service  rendered,  and  shotddst  thou  ever  need  some- 
thing of  me,  I  beg  thee,  —  without  any  ceremony,  I  beg 
thee  to  come  to  me,  service  for  service.  As  is  known  to 
thee,  I  like  to  be  grateful."  .  ,, 

"  This  monkey  is  beginning  to  patronize  me,    thougnt 


386  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

Pan  Stanislav.  And  if  he  had  not  been  in  his  own  house, 
he  might  have  uttered  the  silent  remark  aloud;  but  he 
restrained  himself  and  said,  — 

"  I  have  nothing  to  add ;  such  was  the  contract.  Be- 
sides, I  have  never  considered  that  as  business." 

"  All  the  more  do  I  esteem  it,"  answered  Mashko,  kindly. 

"  Well,  what  is  to  be  heard  in  general  ?  "  inquired  Pan 
Stanislav.  "  Thou  art  moving  with  all  sails,  I  see.  How 
is  it  with  the  will  ?  " 

"  On  behalf  of  the  benevolent  institutions  a  young  little 
advocate  is  appearing  named  Sledz  (herring).  A  nice 
name,  is  n't  it  ?  If  I  should  call  a  cat  by  that  name,  she 
would  raiau  for  three  days.  But  I  '11  pepper  that  herring 
and  eat  him.  As  to  the  lawsuit  ?  It  stands  this  way, 
that  at  the  end  of  it  I  shall  be  able  to  withdraw  from  law 
in  all  likelihood,  which,  moreover,  is  not  an  occupation  be- 
fitting me  —  and  I  will  settle  in  Kremen  permanently." 

*'  With  ready  money  in  thy  pocket  ?  " 

"  With  ready  money  in  my  pocket,  and  in  plenty.  I 
have  enough  of  law.  Of  course,  whoso  came  from  the 
country  is  drawn  to  it.  That  is  inherited  with  the  blood. 
But  enough  of  this  matter,  for  the  present.  To-morrow, 
as  I  told  thee,  I  am  going  away;  and  I  recommend  my  wife 
to  thee,  all  the  more  that  Pani  Kraslavski  has  gone  just 
now  to  an  oculist  in  Vienna.  I  am  going  besides  to  the 
Osnovskis'  to  ask  them  too  to  remember  her." 

"  Of  course  we  shall  think  of  her,"  said  Pan  Stanislav. 
Then  the  conversation  with  Marynia  occurred  to  him,  and 
he  asked,  — 

"Thy  acquaintance  with  the  Osnovskis  is  of  long 
standing  ?  " 

"Kather  long,  though  my  wife  knows  them  better. 
He  is  a  very  rich  man  ;  he  had  one  sister  who  died,  and  a' 
miserly  uncle,  after  whom  he  received  a  great  fortune.  As 
to  her,  what  shall  I  say  to  thee  ?  she  read  when  still  unmar- 
ried all  that  came  to  her  hand ;  she  had  pretensions  to  wit, 
to  art,  —  in  a  word,  to  everything  to  which  one  may  pre- 
tend, —  and  in  her  way  fell  in  love  with  Kopovski :  here 
she  is  for  thee  in  toto." 

"  And  Pani  Bronich  and  Panna  Castelli  ?  " 

"  Panna  Castelli  pleases  women  rather  than  men ;  more- 
over, I  know  nothing  of  her,  except  that  it  is  said  that 
this  same  Kopovski  tried  for  her,  or  is  trying  now,  but 
Pani  Bronich  — " 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  387 

Here  Mashko  began  to  laugh.  "Pani  Bronich  the  Khe- 
dive conducted  in  person  over  the  pyramid  of  Cheops  ;  the 
late  Alphonso  of  Spain  said  every  day  to  her  in  Cannes, 
*  Bon  jour,  Madame  la  Comtesse.'  In  the  year  56,  Musset 
wrote  verses  in  her  album,  and  Moltke  sat  with  her  on  a 
trunk  in  Karlsbad,  —  in  one  word,  she  has  been  at  every 
coronation.  Now,  since  Panni  Castelli  has  grown  up,  or 
rather  luxuriated  up  to  five  feet  and  some  inches.  Aunt 
'  Sweetness  '  makes  those  imaginary  journeys,  not  on  her 
own  account,  but  her  niece's,  in  which  for  some  time  past 
Pani  Osnovski  helps  her  so  zealously  that  it  is  difficult  to 
understand  what  her  object  is.  This  is  all,  unless  it  is 
thy  wish  to  know  something  of  the  late  Pan  Bronich,  who 
died  six  years  ago,  it  is  unknown  of  what  disease,  for  Pani 
Bronich  finds  a  new  one  every  day  for  him,  adding,  besides, 
that  he  was  the  last  of  the  descendants  of  Eurik,  not  stat- 
ing, however,  that  the  second  last  descendant  —  that  is,  his 
father  —  was  manager  for  the  Kdultovskis,  and  made  his 
property  out  of  them.  Well,  I  have  finished,  — '  Vanity 
fair  ! '  Be  well,  keep  well,  and  in  case  of  need  count  on  me. 
If  I  were  sure  that  such  a  need  would  come  quickly,  I  would 
make  thee  promise  to  turn  to  no  one  but  me.  Till  we 
meet !  " 

When  he  had  said  this,  Mashko  pressed  his  friend's  hand 
with  indescribable  kindness ;  and  when  he  had  gone, 
Pan  Stanislav,  shrugging  his  shoulders,  said, — 

"Such  a  clever  man  apparently,  and  doesn't  see  the 
verv  same  vanity  in  himself  that  he  is  laughing  at  in 
others!  How  different  he  was  such  a  little  while  ago!  He 
had  almost  ceased  to  pretend;  but  when  trouble  passed,  the 
devil  gained  the  upper  hand." 

Here  he  remembered  what  Vaskovski  had  said  once 
about  vanity  and  playing  a  comedy  ;  then  he  thought,  — 

"  And  still  such  people  have  success  in  this  country. 


388  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 


CHAPTER  XLni. 

Paki  Osnovski  forgot  her  "Florentine-Roman"  even- 
ings so  thoroughly  -that  she  was  astonished  when  her  hus- 
band reminded  her  once  of  them.  Such  evenings  are  not 
even  in  her  head  now ;  she  has  other  occupations,  which 
she  calls  "  taming  the  eagle."  If  any  one  does  not  see  that 
the  eagle  and  Lineta  are  created  for  each  other,  then,  with 
permission  of  ray  husband  and  lord,  he  has  very  short 
sight ;  but  there  is  no  help  for  that.  In  general,  men  fail 
to  understand  many  things,  for  they  lack  perception. 
Zavilovski  may  be  an  exception  in  this  regard  ;  but  if  Ma- 
rynia  Polanyetski  would  tell  him,  through  friendship,  to 
dress  with  more  care  and  let  his  beard  grow,  it  would  be 
perfect!  "Castelka"*  is  so  thoroughly  aesthetic  that  the 
least  thing  offends  her,  though  on  the  other  hand  he  car- 
ries her  away,  —  nay,  more,  he  hypnotizes  her  simply. 
And  with  her  nature  that  is  not  wonderful. 

Pan  Osnovski  listened  to  this  chattering,  and,  dissolving 
from  ecstasy,  watched  the  opportunity  to  seize  his  wife's 
hands,  and  cover  them,  and  her  arms  to  the  elbow,  with 
kisses  ;  once,  however,  he  put  the  perfectly  natural  ques- 
tion, which  Pan  Stanislav  too  had  put  to  Marynia,  — 

"  Tell  me  what  concern  thou  hast  in  this  ?  " 

But  Pani  Aneta  said  coquettishly,  — 

"  La  reine  s'amuse !  It  is  not  a  trick  to  write  books. 
If  there  be  only  a  little  talent,  that 's  enough ;  but  to  bring 
into  life  that  which  is  described  in  books  is  a  far  greater 
trick,  and,  besides,  what  amusement !  " 

And  after  a  while  she  added,  — 

"  I  may  have  some  personal  object ;  and  if  I  have,  let 
Yozio  guess  it." 

"I  '11  tell  it  in  thy  ear,"  answered  Osnovski. 

She  put  out  her  ear  with  a  cunning  mien,  blinking  her 
violet  eyes  with  curiosity.  But  Osnovski  only  brought  his 
lips  to  her  ear  to  kiss  it ;  for  the  whole  secret  he  repeated 
simply,  — 

"  La  reine  s^amuse  !  " 

^  Familiar  for  Castelli. 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  389 

And  there  was  truth  in  this.  Pani  Aneta  might  have 
her  own  personal  object  in  bringing  Zavilovski  near 
"Castelka;"  but  in  its  own  way  tiiat  development  of  a 
romance  in  life  and  the  role  of  a  little  Providence  occupied 
and  amused  her  immensely. 

With  these  providential  intentions  she  ran  in  often  to 
Marynia,  to  learn  something  of  the  "eagle,"  and  returned 
in  good  spirits  usually.  Zavilovski,  wishing  to  lull 
Marynia's  suspicions,  spoke  more  and  more  of  Lineta;  his 
diplomacy  turned  out  so  effectual  that  once,  when  Pani 
Aneta  inquired  of  Marynia  directly  if  Zavilovski  were  not 
in  love  with  her,  she  answered,  laughing,  — 

"  We  must  confess  that  he  is  in  love,  my  Anetka,  but  not 
with  me,  nor  with  thee.  The  apple  is  adjudged  to  Lineta, 
and  nothing  is  left  to  us  but  to  cry  or  be  comforted." 

On  the  othei-  hand,  feelings  and  thoughts  were  talked 
into  and  attributed  continually  to  Lineta  which  self-love 
itself  would  not  let  her  deny.  From  morning  till  evening 
she  heard  that  this  "  eagle "  of  wide  wings  was  in  love 
with  her;  that  he  was  at  her  feet;  and  that  such  a  chosen 
one,  such  an  exceptional  being,  as  she  was,  could  not  be 
indifferent  to  this.  It  flattered  her  also  too  much  to  make 
it  possible  for  her  to  be  indifferent.  While  painting 
Kopovski,  she  admired  always,  it  is  true,  the  "splendid 
plain  surfaces"  on  his  face,  and  liked  him  because  he 
offered  her  a  field  for  various  successes,  which  were  repeated 
later  as  proofs  of  her  wit  and  cleverness;  she  liked  him 
for  various  reasons.  Zavilovski,  too,  was  not  an  ill-looking 
man,  though  he  did  not  wear  a  beard,  and  did  not  dress 
with  due  care.  Besides,  so  much  was  said  of  his  wings, 
and  of  this,  — that  a  soul  such  as  hers  should  understand 
him.  All  said  this,  not  Pani  Aneta  only.  Pani  Bronich, 
who,  on  a  time,  did  not  understand  how  any  one  could  avoid 
falling  in  love  with  herself,  transferred  later  on  to  her 
niece  this  happy  self-confidence,  and  accepted  the  views 
of  Pani  Aneta,  ornamenting  at  the  same  time  the  canvas 
of  reality  with  flowers  from  her  own  mind.  At  last  Pan 
Osnovski,  too,  joined  the  chorus.  Out  of  love  for  his  wife, 
he  loved  "Castelka"  and  Pani  Bronich,  and  was  ready  to 
love  whatever  had  remote  or  near  relation  to  "Anetka," 
hence  he  took  the  matter  seriously.  Zavilovski  was  for 
him  sympathetic;  the  information  which  he  collected  touch- 
ing him  was  favorable.  In  general,  he  learned  only  that 
he  was  misanthropic,  ambitious,  and  pursued  stubbornly 


390  CHILDREN  OF  THE   SOIL. 

whatever  he  aimed  at;  besides,  he  was  secretive,  and 
greatly  gifted.  Siuee  all  this  pleased  the  ladies,  Osuovski 
began  to  think  with  perfect  seriousness  "  if  that  were  not 
well."  Zavilovski  justified  so  far  the  serious  view  of  af- 
fairs,—  he  had  begun  for  some  time  to  visit  more  frequently 
the  "common  drawing-room,"  and  to  sj^eak  oftener  with 
Lineta.  The  first,  it  is  true,  he  did  always  at  the  cordial 
invitation  of  Pani  Aneta,  but  the  other  flowed  from  his 
will.  Pani  Aneta  noticed,  also,  that  his  glance  rested 
more  and  more  on  the  golden  hair  and  the  dreamy  lids  of 
"Castelka,"  and  his  eyes  followed  her  when  she  passed 
through  the  drawing-room.  Indeed,  he  began  to  survey 
her  more  carefully,  a  little  through  diplomacy,  a  little 
through  curiosity. 

The  affair  became  much  more  important  when  the  first 
volume  of  his  poetry  was  issued.  The  poems  had  won 
attention  already  and  were  much  spoken  of;  but  the  effect 
was  weakened  through  this, — that  they  had  appeared  at 
considerable  intervals,  and  unconnected.  Now  the  book 
struck  people's  eyes;  it  was  brilliant,  strong,  sincere.  The 
language  had  freshness  and  metallic  weight,  but  still  bent 
obediently,  and  assumed  the  most  subtile  forms.  The  im- 
pression increased.  Soon  the  murmur  of  praise  changed 
to  a  roar  filled  with  admiration.  With  the  exaggeration 
usual  in  such  cases,  the  work  was  exalted  above  its  value, 
and  in  the  young  poet  people  began  to  foresee  the  coming 
heir  of  great  glory  and  authority;  his  name  passed  from 
newspaper  offices  to  publicity.  People  spoke  of  him  every- 
where, were  occupied  with  him,  sought  him;  curiosity 
became  the  greater  that  he  was  little  known  personally. 
The  old  rich  Zavilovski,  Panna  Helena's  father,  who  said 
that  the  two  greatest  plagues  existing  were  perhaps  the 
gout  and  poor  relatives,  repeated  now  to  every  one  who 
asked  him,  "Mais  oui,  mais  otil,  —  c^est  mon  cousin;" 
and  such  testimony  had  also  its  social  weight  for  many 
persons,  and,  among  others,  weight  of  first  order  for  Pani 
Bronich.  Pani  Aneta  and  Lineta  ceased  even  to  suffer 
because  of  the  pin  of  "poor  taste"  in  Zavilovski's  necktie, 
for  now  everything  about  him  might  pass  as  original.  She 
was  pained  yet  that  his  name  was  Ignatsi.  They  would 
have  preferred  another  more  in  keeping  with  his  fame 
and  his  poetry;  but  when  Osnovski,  who  from  Metz 
had  brought  home  a  little  Latin,  explained  to  them 
that  it  meant  "fiery,"  they  answered  that  if  that  were 


CHILDREN   OF  THE   SOIL.  391 

true,  it  was  another  thing;  and  they  were  reconciled  with 
Ignatsi. 

Sincere  and  great  joy  reigned  at  Bigiel's,  at  Pan  Stan, 
islav's,  and  in  the  counting-house,  because  the  book  had 
won  such  fame;  they  were  not  envious  in  the  counting- 
house.  The  old  cashier,  the  agent,  and  the  second 
book-keeper  were  proud  of  their  colleague,  as  if  his  glory 
had  brigjitened  the  counting-house  also.  The  cashier  even 
said,  "But  we  have  shown  the  world  what  our  style  is!" 
Bigiel  was  thinking  for  two  days  whether  in  view  of  all 
this  Zavilovski  should  remain  in  a  'modest  position  in  the 
house  of  Polanyetski  and  Bigiel;  but  Zavilovski,  when 
Questioned  by  him,  answered,  — 

"This  is  very  good  of  you,  kind  sir.  Because  people 
are  talking  a  little  about  me,  you  want  to  take  my  morsel 
of  bread  from  me,  and  my  pleasant  associates.  I  found 
no  publishers;  and  had  it  not  been  for  your  book-keeper,  I 
could  not  have  published  the  volume." 

To  such  an  argument  there  was  no  answer,  and  Zavi- 
lovski remained  in  the  counting-house.  But  he  was  a  more 
frequent  guest  both  at  Bigiel's  and  at  Pan  Stanislav's. 
At  the  Osnovskis'  he  had  not  shown  himself  for  a  whole 
week  after  the  volume  was  published,  just  as  if  something 
had  happened.  But  Pani  Bigiel  and  Marynia  persuaded 
him  to  go ;  he  had  a  secret  desire,  too,  —  hence  one  evening 
he  went. 

But  he  found  the  company  just  going  to  the  theatre. 
They  wished  to  remain  at  home  absolutely,  but  he  would 
not  consent;  and  to  the  evident  delight  of  Pani  Osnovski 
and  Lineta,  it  ended  in  this,  —  that  he  went  with  them. 
"Let  Yozio  buy  a  ticket  for  a  chair  if  he  wishes."  And 
Yozio  took  a  ticket  for  a  chair.  During  the  play  Zavilovski 
sat  in  the  front  of  the  box  with  Lineta,  for  Pani  Aneta  had 
insisted  that  Pani  Bronich  and  she  would  play  "mother" 
for  them.  "  You  two  can  say  what  you  please;  and  if  any 
one  comes,  I  will  so  stun  him  that  he  '11  not  have  power  to 
trouble  you."  The  eyes  of  people  were  turned  frequently 
to  that  box  when  it  was  known  who  were  sitting  there, 
and  Lineta  felt  that  a  kind  of  halo  surrounded  her;  she 
felt  that  people  not  only  were  looking  at  him,  but  at  the 
same  time  inquiring,  "Whose  is  that  head  with  golden 
hair  and  dreamy  lids,  to  whom  he  is  inclining  and  speak- 
ing?" She,  on  her  part,  looking  at  him  sometimes,  said 
to\erself,   "Were  it  not  for  the  too  prominent  chin,  ho 


892  CHILDREN  OF  THE   SOIL. 

would  be  perfectly  good-looking;  his  profile  is  very  deli, 
cate,  and  a  beard  might  cover  his  chin."  Pani  Aneta 
carried  out  her  promise  nobly;  and  when  Kopovski  ap- 
peared, she  occupied  him  so  much  that  he  could  barely 
greet  Lineta,  and  say  to  Zavilovski,  — 

"Ah,  you  write  verses!" 

After  this  happy  discovery  he  succeeded  in  adding,  but 
rather  as  a  monologue,  "I  should  like  verses  immensely; 
but,  a  wonderful  thing,  the  moment  1  read  them  I  think  of 
something  else  right  away." 

Lineta,  turning  her  lace,  cast  a  long  glance  at  him;  and 
it  is  unknown  which  was  stronger  in  this  glance,  the 
maliciousness  of  the  woman,  or  the  sudden  admiration  of 
the  artist,  for  that  head  without  brains,  which,  issuing 
from  the  depth  of  the  box,  seemed,  on  the  red  background 
of  the  wall,  like  some  masterly  thought  of  an  artist. 

After  the  theatre,  Pani  Aneta  would  not  let  Zavilovski 
go  home;  and  all  went  to  drink  tea.  Hardly  had  they 
reached  the  house,  when  Pani  Bronich  began  to  make 
reproaches. 

"You  are  an  evil  man;  and  if  anything  happens  to 
Lineta,  it  will  be  on  your  conscience.  The  child  doesn't 
eat,  doesn't  sleep;  she  only  reads  you,  and  reads." 

Pani  Aneta  added  immediately,  — 

"True!  I,  too,  have  cause  of  complaint:  she  seized 
your  book,  and  will  not  give  it  to  any  one  for  an  instant; 
and  when  we  are  angry,  do  you  know  what  she  answers? 
'  This  is  mine!  this  is  mine! '  " 

And  Lineta,  though  she  had  not  the  book  in  her  hands 
at  that  moment,  pressed  them  to  her  bosom,  as  if  to  defend 
something,  and  said  in  a  low,  soft  voice, — 

"For  it  is  mine,  mine!" 

Zavilovski  looked  at  her  and  felt  that  something  had,  as 
it  were,  thrilled  in  him.  But  on  returning  home  late  he 
passed  by  Pan  Stanislav's  windows,  in  which  light  was  still 
shining.  After  the  theatre  and  conversation  at  the  Osnov- 
skis'  he  felt  a  certain  turning  of  the  head.  JSTow  the  sight 
of  those  windows  brought  him  to  himself;  he  felt  suddenly 
such  a  pleasant  impression  as  one  experiences  on  thinking 
of  something  very  good  and  very  dear.  His  immense,  pure 
homage  for  Marynia  arose  in  him  with  its  former  power: 
he  was  possessed  by  that  kind  of  mild  exaltation  in  which 
the  desires  fall  asleep,  and  a  man  becomes  almost  entirely 
a  spirit;  and  he  returned  home,  muttering  passages  from 


CHILDREN   OF  THE   SOIL.  393 

the  poem  "Lilia,"  the  most  full  of  exaltation  of  any  which 
he  had  written  in  his  life  yet. 

There  was  light  at  Pan  Stanislav's  because  something 
had  happened,  which  seemed  to  Marynia  that  mercy  of 
God  expected  and  hoped  for. 

In  the  evening,  after  tea,  she  was  sitting  breaking  her 
head,  as  usual,  over  daily  accounts,  when  she  put  the  pencil 
down  on  a  sudden.  After  a  while  she  grew  pale,  but  her 
face  became  clear;  and  she  said,  with  a  voice  slightly 
changed, — 

"Stas!" 

Her  voice  surprised  him  somewhat;  therefore  he  ap- 
proached her,  and  asked, — 

"What  is  the  matter?     Thou  art  a  little  pale." 

"Come  nearer;  I  '11  tell  thee  something." 

And,  taking  his  head  with  her  hands,  she  whispered  into 
his  ear,  and  he  listened;  then,  kissing  her  on  the  forehead, 
he  said, — 

"Only  be  not  excited,  lest  thou  hurt  thyself.*' 

But  in  his  words  emotion  was  evident.  He  walked 
through  the  room,  looked  at  her  a  while,  kissed  her  again 
on  the  forehead ;  at  last  he  said ,  — 

"Usually  people  wish  a  son  first,  but  remember  that  it 
be  a  daughter.     We  '11  call  her  Litka." 

Neither  of  them  could  sleep  that  night  for  a  long  time, 
and  that  was  why  Zavilovski  saw  light  in  the  windows. 


394  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL 


CHAPTER  XLIV. 

In  a  week,  when  probability  bad  become  certainty,  Pan 
Stanislav  gave  the  news  to  the  Bigiels.  Pani  Bigiel  flew 
the  same  day  to  Marynia,  who  fell  to  weeping  with  glad- 
ness on  her  honest  shoulders. 

"It  seems  to  me,"  said  she,  "that  Stas  will  love  me  more 
now." 

"How  more?" 

"I  wished  to  say  still  more,"  answered  Marynia.  "Seest 
thou,  for  that  matter,  I  have  never  enough." 

"He  would  have  to  settle  with  me  if  there  were  not 
enough." 

The  tears  dried  on  Marynia's  sweet  face,  and  only  a 
smile  remained.  After  a  time  she  clasped  her  hands,  as 
if  in  prayer,  and  said,  — 

"Oh,  my  God,  if  it  is  only  a  daughter!  for  Stas  wants  a 
daughter. " 

"And  what  wouldst  thou  like?" 

"I  —  but  don't  tell  Stas  —  I  should  like  a  son;  but  let  it 
be  a  daughter." 

Then  she  grew  thoughtful,  and  asked, — 

"But  there  is  no  help,  is  there?" 

"There  is  not,"  answered  Pani  Bigiel,  laughing;  "for 
that  they  have  not  found  yet  any  remedy." 

Bigiel,  on  his  part,  gave  the  news  to  every  one  whom  he 
met;  and  in  the  counting-house  he  said,  in  Pan  Stauislav's 
presence,  with  a  certain  unction  in  his  voice, — 

"Well,  gentlemen,  it  seems  that  the  house  will  be  in- 
creased by  one  member." 

The  employees  turned  inquiring  glances  on  him;  he 
added, — 

"Thanks  to  Pan  and  Pani  Polanyetski." 

Then  all  hurried  to  Pan  Stanislav  with  good  wishes, 
excepting  Zavilovski,  who,  bending  over  his  desk,  began 
to  look  diligently  at  columns  of  figures;  and  only  after  a 
while,  when  he  felt  that  his  conduct  might  arrest  attention, 
did  he  turn  with  a  changed  face  to  Pan  Stanislav,  and,  press- 
ing his  hand,  repeat,  "I  congratulate,  I  congratulate!" 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  895 

It  seemed  to  him  then  that  he  was  ridiculous,  that  some- 
thing had  fallen  on  his  head;  that  he  felt  empty,  bound- 
lessly  stupid;  and  that  the  whole  world  was  fabulously 
trivial.  The  worst,  however,  was  the  feeling  of  his  own 
ridiculousness;  for  the  affair  was  so  natural  and  easily 
foreseen  that  even  such  a  man  as  Kopovski  might  foresee 
it.  At  the  same  time,  he,  an  intelligent  man,  writing 
poetry,  pervaded  with  enthusiasm,  grasping  everything 
which  happened  around,  slipped  into  such  an  illusion  that 
it  seemed  to  him  then  as  if  a  thunderbolt  had  struck  him. 
What  overpowering  ridiculousness!  But  he  had  made  the 
acquaintance  of  Marynia  as  Pani  Polanyetski,  and  imagined 
to  himself  unconsciously  that  she  had  always  been,  and 
would  be,  Pani  Polanyetski  in  the  future  as  she  was  in 
the  present,  and  simply  it  had  not  occurred  to  him  that 
any  change  might  supervene.  And  behold,  observing  lily 
tones  once  on  her  face,  he  called  her  Lily,  and  wrote  lily 
verses  to  her.  And  now  that  lost  sense,  which  to  vexation 
adds  something  of  ridicule,  whispered  in  his  ear,  "Ah,  a 
pretty  lily!  "  And  Zavilovski  felt  more  and  more  crushed, 
more  and  more  ridiculous;  he  wrote  verses,  but  Pan 
Stanislav  did  not  write  any.  In  that  apposition  there  was 
a  gnawing  bitterness,  and  something  idiotic;  he  took  deep 
draughts  from  that  cup,  so  as  not  to  lose  one  drop  in  the 
drinking.  If  his  feelings  had  been  betrayed;  if  he  had 
made  them  known  to  Marynia;  if  she  had  repulsed  him 
with  utter  contempt,  and  Pan  Stanislav  had  thrown  him 
downstairs,  —  there  would  have  been  something  in  that  like 
a  drama.  But  such  an  ending, — "such  flatness!"  He 
had  a  nature  feeling  everything  ten  times  more  keenly  than 
common  men;  hence  the  position  seemed  to  him  simply  un- 
endurable, and  those  office  hours,  which  he  had  to  sit  out 
yet,  a  torture.  His  feeling  for  Marynia  had  not  sunk  in 
his  heart  deeply;  but  it  occupied  his  imagination  altogether. 
Reality  now  struck  its  palm  on  his  head  without  mercy;  the 
blow  seemed  to  him  not  only  painful  and  heavy,  but  also 
given  sneeringly.  The  desperate  thought  came  to  his 
head  to  seize  his  cap,  go  out,  and  never  come  back  again. 
Fortunately,  the  usual  hour  for  ending  work  came  at  last, 
and  all  began  to  separate. 

Zavilovski,  while  passing  through  the  corridor,  where, 
at  a  hat-rack,  a  mirror  was  fixed,  saw  his  projecting  chin 
and  tall  form  in  it,  and  said  to  himself,  "Thus  looks  an 
idiot."     He  did  not  go  to  dine  that  day  with  the  second 


396  CHILDREN  OF  THE   SOIL. 

book-keeper,  as  usual;  he  would  have  been  eveu  glad  to  flee 
from  his  own  person.  Meanwhile  he  shut  himself  in  at 
home,  and  with  the  exaggeration  of  a  genuine  artist, 
heightened  to  impossible  limits  his  misfortune  and  ridicu- 
lous position.  After  some  days  he  grew  calm,  however; 
he  felt  only  a  strange  void  in  his  heart,  —  precisely  as  if  it 
were  a  dwelling  vacated  by  some  one.  He  did  not  show 
himself  at  Pan  Stauislav's  for  a  fortnight;  but  at  the  end 
of  that  time  he  saw  Marynia  at  the  Bigiels',  and  was 
astonished. 

She  seemed  to  him  almost  ugly.  That  was  by  no  means 
his  prejudice,  for,  though  it  was  difficult  to  notice  a  change 
in  her  form,  still  she  had  changed  greatly.  Her  lips  were 
swollen;  there  were  pimples  on  her  forehead;  and  she  had 
lost  freshness  of  color.  She  was  calm,  however,  but  some- 
what melancholy,  as  if  some  disappointment  had  met  her. 
Zavilovski,  who,  in  truth,  had  a  good  heart,  was  moved 
greatly  by  her  ugliness.  Before,  it  seemed  to  him  that  he 
would  disregard  her;  now  that  seemed  to  him  stupid. 

But  her  face  only  had  changed,  not  her  kindness  or 
good-will.  Nay,  feeling  safe  now  from  superfluous  enthu- 
siasms on  his  part,  she  showed  him  more  cordiality  than 
ever.  She  asked  with  great  interest  about  Lineta;  and 
when  she  found  that  a  subject  on  which  he,  too,  spoke  will- 
ingly, she  began  to  laugh  with  her  former  laughter,  full 
of  indescribable  sweetness,  and  said  almost  joyously,  — 

"Well,  well!  People  wonder  there  why  you  have  not 
visited  them  for  so  long  a  time;  and  do  you  know  what 
Aneta  and  Pani  Bronich  told  me?     They  told  me  —  " 

But  here  she  stopped,  and  after  a  while  said,  — 

"No ;  I  cannot  tell  this  aloud.  Let  us  walk  in  the  garden 
a  little." 

And  she  rose,  but  not  with  sufficient  care,  so  that,  stum- 
bling at  the  first  step,  she  almost  fell. 

"  Be  careful !  "  cried  Pan  Stanislav,  impatiently. 

She  looked  at  him  with  submission,  almost  with  fear. 

"Stas,"  said  she,  blushing,  "as  I  love  thee,  that  was 
inadvertent." 

"But  do  not  frighten  her  so,"  said  Pani  Bigiel,  quickly. 

It  was  so  evident  that  Pan  Stanislav  cared  more  at  that 
moment  for  the  coming  child  than  Marynia,  that  even 
Zavilovski  understood  it. 

As  to  Marynia,  this  was  known  to  her  long  before  that 
day;  she  had  passed  through  a  whole  mental  battle  with 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  397 

herself  just  because  of  it.  Of  that  battle  she  had  not 
spoken  to  any  one ;  and  it  was  the  more  difficult,  the  more 
the  state  of  her  health  advised  against  excitement,  unquiet, 
and  an  inclination  to  gloomy  brooding.  She  had  passed 
through  grievous  hours  before  she  said  to  herself,  "  It  must 
be  as  it  is." 

Pan  Stanislav  would  have  been  simply  astonished  had 
any  one  told  him  that  he  did  not  love,  and  especially  that 
he  did  not  value,  his  wife  as  duty  demanded.  He  loved  her 
in  his  own  way,  and  judged  at  once  that,  if  ever,  it  was 
then  that  the  child  should  be  for  both  a  question  beyond 
every  other.  Vivacious  and  impulsive  by  nature,  he  pushed 
this  care  at  moments  too  far,  but  he  did  not  account  this  to 
himself  as  a  fault;  he  did  not  even  stop  to  think  of  what 
might  take  place  in  the  soul  of  Maryuia.  It  seemed  to 
him  that  among  other  duties  of  hers  one  of  the  first  was 
the  duty  of  giving  him  children;  that  it  was  a  simple  thing, 
therefore,  that  she  should  accomplish  this.  Hence  he 
was  thankful  to  her,  and  imagined  that,  being  careful  of  a 
child,  he  was  by  that  very  act  careful  of  her,  and  careful 
in  a  degree  that  few  husbands  are.  If  he  had  considered 
it  proper  to  call  himself  to  account  touching  his  treatment 
of  her,  he  would  have  considered  it  a  thing  perfectly 
natural  also  that  her  charm,  purely  feminine,  attracted  him 
now  less  than  it  had  hitherto.  With  each  day  she  became 
uglier,  and  offended  his  aesthetic  sense  sometimes;  he 
fancied  that,  concealing  this  from  her.  and  trying  to  show 
her  sympathy,  he  was  as  delicate  as  a  man  could  well  be 
to  a  woman. 

She,  on  her  part,  had  the  impression  that  the  hope  on 
which  she  had  counted  most  had  deceived  her;  she  felt 
that  she  had  descended  to  the  second  place,  that  she  would 
descend  more  and  more.  And  in  spite  of  all  her  affection 
for  her  husband,  in  spite  of  the  treasures  of  tenderness 
which  were  collecting  in  her  for  the  future  child,  rebellion 
and  regret  seized  her  soul  at  the  first  moment.  But  this 
did  not  last  long;  she  battled  with  these  feelings  also,  and 
conquered.  She  said  to  herself  that  here  it  was  no  one's 
fault;  life  is  such  that  this  issues  from  the  natural  con- 
dition of  things,  which,  again,  is  a  result  of  God's  will. 
Then  she  began  to  accuse  herself  of  selfishness,  and  crush 
herself  with  the  weight  of  this  thought:  Has  she  a  right 
to  think  of  herself,  not  of  "Stas,"and  not  of  her  future 
child  ?    What  can  she  bring  ngainst  "  Stas  "  ?  What  is  there 


398  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

wonderful  in  this,  that  he,  who  had  loved  even  a  strange 
child  so  much,  has  his  soul  occupied  now,  above  all,  with 
his  own;  that  his  heart  beats  first  for  it?  Is  there  not  an 
offence  against  God  in  this,  —  that  she  permits  herself  to 
bring  forward  first  of  all  rights  of  her  own,  happiness  of 
her  own,  she,  who  has  offended  so  much?  Who  is  she, 
and  what  right  has  she  to  an  exceptional  fate?  And  she 
was  ready  to  beat  her  breast.  The  rebellion  passed ;  there 
remained  only  somewhere  in  the  very  depths  of  her  heart 
a  little  regret  that  life  is  so  strange,  and  that  every  new 
feeling,  instead  of  strengthening  a  previous  one,  pushes 
it  into  the  depths.  But  when  that  sorrow  went  from  her 
heart  to  her  eyes,  under  the  form  of  tears,  or  began  to 
quiver  on  her  lips,  she  did  not  let  it  have  such  an  escape. 

"I  shall  be  calm  in  a  moment,"  thought  she,  in  her  soul. 
"Such  it  is,  such  it  will  be,  and  such  is  right;  for  such  is 
life,  and  such  is  God's  will,  with  which  we  must  be  recon- 
ciled."    And  at  last  she  was  reconciled. 

By  degrees  she  found  repose  even,  not  giving  an  account 
to  herself  that  the  basis  of  this  was  resignation  and  sad- 
ness. It  was  sadness,  however,  which  smiled.  Being 
young,  it  was  almost  bitter  at  times  to  her,  when  all  at 
once,  in  the  eyes  of  her  husband,  or  of  even  some  stranger, 
she  read  clearly,  " Oh ,  how  ugly  thou  hast  grown!"  But 
because  Pani  Bigiel  had  said  that  "  afterward  "  she  would 
be  more  beautiful  than  ever,  she  said  in  her  soul  to  them. 
"  Wait !  "  —  and  that  was  her  solace. 

She  answered  also  something  similar  to  Zavilovski.  She 
was  at  once  glad,  and  not  glad,  of  the  impression  she  had 
made  on  him;  for  if  on  the  one  hand  her  self-love  had 
suffered  a  little,  on  the  other  she  felt  perfectly  safe,  and 
could  speak  with  him  freely.  She  wished  to  speak,  and 
speak  with  full  seriousness,  for  a  few  days  before,  Pani 
Aneta  had  told  her  directly  that  "The  Column"  was  in 
love  to  the  ears,  and  that  Zavilovski  had  every  chance 
with  her. 

This  forging  the  iron  while  hot  disquieted  her  somewhat; 
she  could  not  understand  why  it  was  so,  even  taking  into 
consideration  the  innate  impetuosity  of  Pani  Aneta.  For 
Zavilovski,  who  had  become  somehow  the  Benjamin  of 
both  houses,  she,  as  well  as  the  Bigiels  and  Pan  Stanislav, 
had  great  friendship;  and,  besides,  she  was  grateful  to  him, 
for,  be  things  as  they  might,  he  had  appreciated  her.  He 
had  known  her  truly,  hence  she  would  help  him  with  glad- 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  399 

ness  in  that  which  seemed  to  her  a  great  opportunity;  but 
she  thought  also,  "Suppose  it  should  be  bad  for  him." 
She  feared  responsibility  a  little,  and  her  own  previous 
diplomacy.  Now,  therefore,  she  wishes  to  learn  first  what 
he  thinks  really,  and  then  give  him  to  understand  how 
things  are,  and  finally  advise  him  to  examine  and  weigh 
with  due  care  in  the  given  case. 

"  They  are  wondering  there,  because  you  have  not  called 
for  a  long  time,"  said  she,  when  they  had  gone  to  the 
garden. 

"What  did  Pani  Osnovski  say?"  inquired  Zavilovski. 

"  I  will  tell  you  only  one  thing,  though  I  am  not  sure 
that  I  ought  to  repeat  it.  Pani  Aneta  told  me  —  that  — 
but  no !  First,  I  must  learn  why  you  have  not  called  there 
this  long  time." 

"I  was  not  well,  and  I  had  a  disappointment.  I  made 
no  visits;  I  could  not!     You  have  stopped  talking." 

"  Yes,  for  I  wished  to  know  if  you  were  not  angry  at 
those  ladies  for  some  cause.  Pani  Aneta  told  me  that 
Lineta  supposed  you  were,  and  that  she  saw  tears  in  her 
eyes  a  number  of  times,  for  that  reason." 

Zavilovski  blushed;  on  his  young  and  impressionable 
face  real  tenderness  was  reflected. 

"Ah,  my  God!"  answered  he;  "I  angry,  and  at  a  lady 
like  Panna  Lineta?     Could  she  offend  any  one?" 

"I  repeat  what  was  said  to  me,  though  Pani  Aneta  is  so 
impulsive  that  I  dare  not  guarantee  all  she  says  to  be 
accurate.  I  know  that  she  is  not  lying;  but,  as  you  un- 
derstand, very  impulsive  people  see  things  sometimes  as 
if  through  a  magnifying-glass.  Satisfy  yourself.  Lineta 
seems  to  me  agreeable,  very  uncommon,  and  very  kind 
—  but  judge  for  yourself;  you  have  such  power  of 
observation." 

"  That  she  is  kind  and  uncommon  is  undoubted.  You 
remember  how  I  said  that  they  produced  the  impression  of 
foreign  women ;  that  is  not  true  altogether.  Pani  Osnovski 
may,  but  not  Panna  Lineta."  _    . 

"You  must  look  yourself,  and  look  again,"  said  Marynia. 
"  You  understand  that  I  persuade  you  to  nothing.  I  should 
have  a  little  fear,  even  of  Stas,  who  does  not  like  those 
ladies.  But  I  say  sincerely  that  when  I  heard  of  Lineta's 
tears,  my  heart  was  touched.     The  poor  girl !  " 

"I  cannot  even  tell  you  how  the  very  thought  of  that 
Stirs  me,"  replied  Zavilovski. 


400  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOH.. 

Further  conversation  was  interrupted  by  the  coming  ol 
Pan  Stanislav,  who  said,  — 

"Well?  always  matchmakers!  But  these  women  are 
incurable.  Knowest  thou,  Marynia,  what  I  will  tell  thee? 
I  should  be  most  happy  wert  thou  to  refrain  from  such 
matters." 

Marynia  began  to  explain ;  but  he  turned  to  Zavilovski, 
and  said,  — 

"I  enter  into  nothing  in  this  case,  and  know  only  this, 
—  that  I  have  not  the  least  faith  in  those  ladies." 

Zavilovski  went  home  full  of  dreams.  All  the  strings 
of  his  imagination  had  been  stirred  and  sounded ,  so  that 
the  wished-for  sleep  fled  from  him.  He  did  not  light  a- 
lamp,  so  that  nothing  might  prevent  him  from  playing 
on  those  quivering  strings;  he  sat  in  the  moonlight  and 
mused,  or  rather,  created.  He  was  not  in  love  yet;  but 
a  great  tenderness  had  possessed  him  at  thought  of  Lineta, 
and  he  arranged  images  as  if  he  loved  already.  He  saw 
her  as  distinctly  as  though  she  were  before  him;  he 
saw  her  dreamy  eyes,  and  her  golden  head,  bending,  like 
a  cut  flower,  till  it  reached  his  breast.  And  now  it  seems 
to  him  that  he  is  placing  his  fingers  on  her  temples,  and 
that  he  is  feeling  the  satin  touch  of  her  hair,  and,  bend- 
ing her  head  back  a  little,  he  looks  to  see  if  the  fondling 
has  not  dried  her  tears;  and  her  eyes  laugh  at  him,  like 
the  sky  still  wet  from  rain,  but  sunny.  Imagination 
moves  his  senses.  He  thinks  that  he  is  confessing  his 
love  to  her;  that  he  presses  her  to  his  bosom,  and  feels  her 
heart  beating ;  that  he  kneels  with  his  head  on  her  knees, 
from  which  comes  warmth  through  the  silk  garment  to  his 
face.  And  he  began  in  reality  to  shiver.  Hitherto  she 
had  been  for  him  an  image;  now  he  feels  her  for  the  first 
time  as  a  woman.  There  is  not  in  him  even  one  thought 
which  is  not  on  her;  and  he  so  forgets  himself  in  her  that 
he  loses  consciousness  of  where  he  is,  and  what  is  happen- 
ing within  him. 

Some  kind  of  hoarse  singing  on  the  street  roused  him ; 
then  he  lighted  a  lamp,  and  began  to  think  more  soberly. 
A  kind  of  alarm  seized  him  now,  because  one  thing  seemed 
undoubted,  —  if  he  did  not  cease  to  visit  Pani  Bronich  and 
the  Osnovskis  altogether,  he  would  fall  in  love  with  that 
maiden  past  memory. 

"  I  must  choose,  then, "  said  he  to  himself. 

And  next  day  he  went  to  see  her,  for  he  had  begun  to 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  401 

yearn;  and  that  same  night  he  tried  to  write  a  poem  with 
the  title  of  " Spider-web," 

He  dared  not  go  to  Pani  Bronich  herself,  so  he  waited 
till  the  hour  when  he  could  find  all  at  tea,  in  the  common 
drawing-room.  Pani  Aneta  received  him  with  uncommon 
cordiality,  and  outbursts  of  joyous  laughter;  but  he,  after 
greeting  her,  began  to  look  at  Lineta's  face,  and  his  heart 
beat  with  more  force  when  he  saw  in  her  a  great  and  deep 

joy. 

"Do  you  know  what?"  cried  Pani  Aneta,  with  her  usual 
vivacit3\  "  Our  '  Poplar '  likes  beards  so  much  that  I 
thought  this  of  you :  '  he  is  letting  his  beard  grow,  and 
does  not  show  himself.'  " 

"No,  no!  "  said  the  "Poplar,"  "stay  as  you  were  when  I 
made  your  acquaintance." 

But  Pan  Osnovski  put  his  arm  around  Zavilovski,  and 
said,  in  that  pleasant  tone  of  a  man  of  good  breeding,  who 
knows  how  to  bring  people  at  once  to  more  intimate  and 
cordial  relations,  — 

"Did  Pan  Ignas  hide  himself  from  us?  Well,  I  have 
means  to  compel  him.  Let  Lineta  begin  his  portrait,  then 
he  must  come  to  us  daily." 

Pani  Aneta  clapped  her  hands. 

"  How  clever  that  Yozio  is,  wonderfully  clever! " 

His  face  was  radiant  because  he  had  said  a  thing  pleasing 
to  his  wife,  and  he  repeated, — 

"  Of  course,  ray  Anetka,  of  course." 

"  I  have  promised  already  to  paint  it,"  said  Lineta,  with 
a  soft  voice,  **but  I  was  afraid  to  be  urgent." 

"  Whenever  you  command,"  answered  Pan  Ignas. 

"  The  days  are  so  long  now  that  about  four,  after  Pan 
Kopovski;  for  that  matter,  I  shall  finish  soon  with  that 
insufferable  Kopovski." 

"Do  you  know  what  she  said  about  Pan  Kopovski?" 
began  Pani  Aneta. 

But  Lineta  would  not  permit  her  to  say  this  for  anything ; 
she  was  prevented,  moreover,  by  Pan  Plavitski,  who  came 
in  at  that  moment,  and  broke  up  the  conversation.  Pan 
Plavitski,  on  making  the  acquaintance  of  Pani  Aneta  at 
Marynia's,  lost  his  head  for  her,  and  acknowledged  this 
openly ;  on  her  part,  she  coquetted  with  him  unsparingly, 
to  the  great  delight  of  herself  and  of  others. 

"  Let  papa  sit  near  me  here,"  said  she ;  "  we  will  be  happy 
aide  by  side,  won't  we  ?  " 

20 


402  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

"As  in  heaven  !  as  in  heaven  !"  replied  Plavitski,  strok- 
ing his  knees  with  his  palms  time  after  time,  and  thrusting 
out  the  tip  of  his  tongue  from  enjoyment. 

Zavilovski  drew  up  to  Lineta  and  said, — 

"  I  am  so  happy  to  be  able  to  come  every  day.  But  shall 
I  not  occupy  your  time,  really  ?  " 

"  Of  course  you  will  occupy  it,"  answered  she,  looking 
him  in  the  eyes ;  "  but  you  will  occupy  it  as  no  one  else  can. 
I  was  really  too  timid  to  urge,  because  I  am  afraid  of  you." 

Then  he  looked  into  the  depth  of  her  eyes,  and  answered 
with  emphasis,  — 

"  Be  not  afraid." 

Lineta  dropped  her  eyelids,  and  a  moment  of  rather 
awkward  suspense  followed ;  then  the  lady  inquired,  in  a 
voice  somewhat  lowered,  — 

"  Why  did  you  not  come  for  such  a  long  time  ?  " 

He  had  it  on  his  tongue  to  say,  "  I  was  afraid,"  but  he 
had  not  the  daring  to  push  matters  that  far;  Ixence  he 
answered,  — 

"  I  was  writing." 

"A  poem?" 

"  Yes,  called  *  Spider-web ; '  I  will  bring  it  to-morrow.  You 
remember  that  when  I  made  your  acquaintance,  you  said 
that  you  would  like  to  be  a  spider-web.  I  remembered  that; 
and  since  then  I  see  continually  such  a  snowy  thread  sport- 
ing in  the  air." 

"  It  sports,  but  not  with  its  own  power,"  answered  Lineta, 
"and  cannot  soar  unless  — " 

"  What  ?  Why  do  you  not  finish  ?  " 

"  Unless  it  winds  around  the  wing  of  a  Soarer." 

When  she  had  said  this,  she  rose  quickly  and  went  to 
help  Osnovski,  who  was  opening  the  window. 

Zavilovski  remained  alone  with  mist  in  his  eyes.  It 
seemed  to  him  that  he  heard  the  throbbing  of  his  temples. 
The  honeyed  voice  of  Pani  Bronich  first  brought  him  to  his 
senses,  — 

"  A  couple  of  days  ago  old  Pan  Zavilovski  told  me  that 
you  and  he  are  related ;  but  that  you  are  not  willing  to  visit 
him,  and  that  he  cannot  visit  you,  since  he  has  the  gout. 
Why  not  visit  him?  He  is  a  man  of  such  distinction,  and  so 
pleasant.  Go  to  him ;  it  is  even  a  disappointment  to  him 
that  you  do  not  go.     Go  to  visit  him." 

"Very  well;  I  can  go,"  answered  Zavilovski,  who  was 
ready  that  moment  to  agree  to  anything. 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  403 

"  How  kind  and  good  you  must  be !  You  will  see  your 
cousin,  Panua  Helena.  But  don't  fall  in  love  with  her,  for 
she  too  is  very  distinguished." 

"No,  there  is  no  danger,"  said  Zavilovski,  laughing. 

"They  say  besides  that  she  Avas  in  love  with  Ploshov- 
ski,  who  shot  himself,  and  that  she  wears  eternal  mourning 
in  her  heart  for  him.     But  when  will  you  go  ?  " 

"  To-morrow,  or  the  day  after.     When  you  like." 

"  You  see,  they  are  going  away.  The  summer  is  at  our 
girdles  !    Where  will  you  be  in  the  summer  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  know.     And  you  ?  " 

Lineta,  who  during  this  time  had  returned  and  sat  down 
not  far  away,  stopped  her  conversation  with  Kopovski,  and, 
hearing  Pan  Ignas's  question,  replied,  — 

"  We  have  no  plan  yet." 

"  We  were  going  to  Scheveningen,"  said  Pani  Bronich, 
"but  it  is  difficult  with  Lineta."  And  after  a  while  she 
added  in  a  lower  voice :  '•'  She  is  always  so  surrounded  by 
people  ;  she  has  such  success  in  society  that  you  would  not 
believe  it.  Though  why  should  you  not  ?  It  is  enough  to 
look  at  her.  My  late  husband  foretold  this  when  she  was 
twelve  years  of  age.  'Look,'  said  he,  'what  trouble  there 
will  be  when  she  grows  up.'  And  there  is  trouble,  there 
is!  My  husband  foresaw  many  things-  But  have  I 
told  you  that  he  was  the  last  of  the  Rur —  Ah,  yes!  1 
have  told  you.  We  had  no  children  of  our  own,  for  the 
first  one  didn't  come  to  birth,  and  my  husband  was  four- 
teen years  older  than  I ;  later  on  he  was  to  me  more,  —  a 
father." 

"How  can  that  concern  me  ?  "  thought  Pan  Ignas.  But 
Pani  Bronich  continued,  — 

"  My  late  husband  always  grieved  over  this,  that  he  had 
no  son.  That  is,  there  was  a^son,  but  he  came  halfway  too 
early  "  (here  tears  quivered  in  the  voice  of  Pani  Bronicli). 
"  We  kept  him  some  time  in  spirits.  And,  if  you  will  believe 
it,  when  there  was  fair  weather  he  rose,  and  when  there  was 
rain  he  sank  down.  Ah,  what  a  gloomy  remembrance  !  How 
much  my  husband  suffered  because  he  was  to  die,  —  the  last 
of  the  Kur  — .  But  a  truce  to  this ;  't  is  enough  that  at  last 
he  was  as  attached  to  Lineta  as  to  a  relative, —and  surely 
she  was  his  nearest  relative,  —and  what  remains  after  us 
will  b3  hers.  Maybe  for  that  reason  people  surround  her 
so.     Though  —  no !     I  do  not  wonder  at  them.     If  you  knew 


404  CHILDREN  OF  THE   SOIL. 

what  a  torment  that  is  to  her,  and  to  me.  Two  years  ago, 
in  Nice,  a  Portuguese,  Count  Jao  Colima9ao,  a  relative  of 
the  Alcantaras,  so  lost  his  head  as  to  rouse  people's 
laughter.  Or  that  Greek  of  last  year,  in  Ostend !  — the  son 
of  a  banker,  from  Marseilles,  a  millionnaire.  What  was  his 
name  ?  Lineta,  what  was  the  name  of  that  Greek  million- 
naire, that  one  who,  thou  knowest  ?" 

"  Aunt!  "  said  Lineta,  with  evident  displeasure. 

But  the  aunt  was  in  full  career  already,  like  a  train  with 
full  steam. 

"  Ah,  ha  !  I  recollect,"  said  she,  —  "  Kanafaropulos,  Sec- 
retary of  the  French  Embassy  in  Brussels." 

Lineta  rose  and  went  to  Pani  Aneta,  who  was  talking  at 
the  principal  table  with  Plavitski.  The  aunt,  following  her 
with  her  eyes,  said,  — 

"The  child  is  angry.  She  hates  tremendously  to  have 
any  one  speak  of  her  successes ;  but  I  cannot  resist.  Do  you 
understand  me  ?  See  how  tall  she  is !  How  splendidly  she 
has  grown  !  Anetka  calls  her  sometimes  the  column,  and 
sometimes  the  poplar;  and  really,  she  is  a  poplar.  What 
wonder  that  people's  eyes  gaze  at  her  !  I  have  n't  mentioned 
3^et  Pan  Ufinski.  That 's  our  great  friend.  My  late  hus- 
band loved  him  immensely.  But  you  must  have  heard  of 
Pan  Ufinski  ?  That  man  who  cuts  silhouettes  out  of  paper. 
The  whole  world  knows  him,  I  don't  know  at  how  many 
courts  he  has  cut  silhouettes ;  the  last  time  he  cut  out  the 
Prince  of  Wales.     There  was  also  a  Hungarian." 

Osnovski,  who  sat  near  by  amusing  himself  with  a  pencil 
at  his  watch-chain,  now  drawing  it  out,  now  pushing  it  back, 
grew  impatient  at  last,  and  said,  — 

"  A  couple  of  more  such,  dear  aunt,  and  there  would  be  a 
masquerade  ball." 

"Precisely,  precisely!"  answered  Pani  Bronich.  "If  I 
mention  them,  it  is  because  Lineta  does  n't  wish  to  hear  of 
any  one.  She  is  such  a  chauviniste !  You  have  no  idea 
what  a  chauviniste  that  child  is." 

"  God  give  her  health  !  "  said  Pan  Ignas. 

Then  he  rose  to  take  farewell.  At  parting,  he  held  for 
some  time  the  hand  of  Lineta,  who  answered  also  with  an 
equally  prolonged  pressure. 

"Till  to-morrow,"  said  he,  looking  into  her  eyes. 

"  Till  to-morrow  —  after  Pan  Kopovski.  And  do  not  for- 
get *  Spider-web.'  *' 


CHILDKEN  OF  THE  SOIL.  405 

«Ko,  I  will  not  forget  —  ever,"  answered  Zavilovski,  with 
a  voice  somewhat  moved. 

He  went  out  with  Plavitski;  but  they  had  scarcely  found 
themselves  on  the  street,  when  the  old  man,  tapped  him 
lightly  on  the  arm,  and  stopping,  said,  — 

"Young  man,  do  you  know  that  I  shall  soon  be  a  grand- 
father?" 

"  I  know." 

"  Yes,  yes  ! "  repeated  Plavitski  with  a  smile  of  delight, 
"  and  in  addition  to  that,  I  will  tell  you  only  this  much : 
there  is  nothing  to  surpass  young  married  women ! " 

And,  laughing,  he  began  to  clap  Pan  Ignas  time  after  time 
on  the  shoulder;  then  he  put  the  ends  of  his  fingers  to  his 
lips,  took  farewell,  and  walked  oif. 

But  his  voice,  slightly  quivering,  came  to  Pan  Ignas  from 
a  distance,  — 

"There  is  nothing  to  surpass  young  married  women." 
Noise  on  the  street  drowned  the  rest. 


406  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 


CHAPTER   XLV. 

From  that  time  Pan  Ignas  went  every  day  to  Aunt 
Bronich's.  He  found  Kopovski  there  frequently,  for 
toward  the  end  something  had  been  spoiled  in  the  portrait 
of  "  Antinoils,"  Lineta  said  that  she  had  not  been  able  to 
brin"  everything  out  of  that  face  yet ;  that  the  expression 
in  the  picture  was  not  perhaps  what  it  should  be, — in  a 
word,  she  needed  time  for  reflection.  With  Pan  Ignas  her 
work  went  more  easily. 

"  With  such  a  head  as  Pan  Kopovski's,"  said  she  once, 
"it  is  enough  to  change  the  least  line,  it  is  enough  to  have 
the  light  wrong,  to  ruin  everything.  While  with  Pan 
Zavilovski  one  must  seize  first  of  all  the  character." 

On  hearing  this,  both  were  satisfied.  Kopovski  declared 
even  that  it  was  not  his  fault ;  that  God  had  created  him 
so.  Pani  Bronich  said  later  on  that  Lineta  had  said 
apropos  of  that :  "  God  created  him ;  the  Son  of  God  re- 
deemed him  ;  but  the  Holy  Ghost  forgot  to  illuminate  him." 
That  witticism  on  poor  Kopovski  was  repeated  throughout 
Warsaw. 

Pan  Ignas  liked  him  well  enough.  After  a  few  meetings 
he  seemed  to  him  so  unfathomably  stupid  that  it  did  not 
occur  to  him  that  any  one  could  be  jealous  of  the  man.  On 
the  contrary,  it  was  always  pleasant  to  look  at  him.  Those 
ladies  too  liked  him,  though  tliey  permitted  themselves  to 
jest  with  him  ;  and  sometimes  he  served  them  simply  as  a 
ball,  which  they  tossed  from  hand  to  hand.  Kopovski's 
stupidity  was  not  gloomy,  however,  nor  suspicious.  He 
possessed  a  uniform  temper  and  a  smile  really  wonderful ; 
of  this  last  he  was  aware,  perhaps,  hence  he  preferred  to 
smile  rather  than  frown.  He  was  well  bred,  accustomed  to 
society,  and  dressed  excellently  ;  in  this  regard  he  might 
have  served  as  a  model  to  Pan  Ignas. 

From  time  to  time  he  put  astonishing  questions,  which 
filled  the  young  ladies  with  merriment.  Once,  hearing 
Pani  Bronich  talk  of  poetic  inspirations,  he  asked  Pan 
Ignas,  "  If  anything  was  taken  for  it  or  not,"  and  at  the 
first  moment  confused  him,  for  Pan  Ignas  did  not  know 
what  to  answer. 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  407 

Another  time  Pani  Aneta  said  to  him,  — 

"  Have  you  ever  written  poetry  ?  Make  some  rhyme, 
then." 

Kopovski  asked  time  till  next  day ;  but  next  day  he 
had  forgotten  the  request,  or  could  not  make  the  verses. 
The  ladies  were  too  well-bred  to  remind  him  of  his  promise. 
It  was  always  so  agreeable  to  look  at  him  that  they  did 
not  wish  to  cause  him  unpleasantness. 

Meanwhile  spring  ended,  and  the  races  began.  Pan 
Ignas  was  invited  for  the  whole  time  of  their  continuance 
to  the  carriage  of  the  Osnovskis.  They  gave  him  a  place 
opposite  Lineta ;  and  he  admired  her  with  all  his  soul. 
In  bright  dresses,  in  bright  hats,  with  laughter  in  her 
dreamy  eyes,  with  her  calm  face  flushing  somewhat  under 
the  breath  of  fresh  breezes,  she  seemed  to  him  spring  and 
paradise.  Returning  home,  he  had  his  eyes  full  of  her, 
his  mind  and  his  heart  full.  In  that  world  in  wliich  they 
lived,  in  the  society  of  those  young  men,  who  came  up  to 
the  carriage  to  entertain  the  ladies,  he  was  not  at  home, 
but  the  sight  of  Lineta  recomperfsed  him  for  everything. 
Under  the  influence  of  sunny  days,  fair  weather,  broad 
summer  breezes,  and  that  youthful  maiden,  who  began  to 
be  dear  to  him,  he  lived,  as  it  were,  in  a  continuous  intoxi- 
cation ;  he  felt  youth  and  power  in  himself.  In  his  face 
there  was  at  times  something  truly  eagle-like.  At  moments 
it  seemed  to  him  that  he  was  a  ringing  bell,  sounding  and 
sounding,  heralding  the  delight  of  life,  the  delight  of  love, 
the  delight  of  happiness,  —  a  great  jubilee  of  loving. 

He  wrote  much,  and  more  easily  than  ever  before ;  there 
was  besides  in  his  verses  that  which  recalled  the  fresh 
odor  of  newly  ploughed  fields,  the  vigor  of  young  leaves, 
the  sound  of  wings  of  birds  flying  on  to  fallow  land  to  the 
immense  breadth  of  plains  and  meadows.  He  felt  his  own 
power,  and  ceased  to  be  timid  about  poetry  even  before 
strangers,  for  he  understood  that  there  was  something  about 
him,  something  within  him,  and  that  he  had  something  to 
lay  at  the  feet  of  a  loved  one. 

Pan  Stanislav,  who,  in  spite  of  his  mercantile  life,  had 
an  irrestrainable  passion  for  horses,  and  never  neglected 
the  races,  saw  Pan  Ignas  every  day  with  the  Osnovskis  and 
Panna  Castelli,  and  gazing  at  the  latter  as  at  a  rainbow;- 
when  he  teased  him  in  the  counting-house  for  being  in  love, 
the  young  poet  answered,  — 

"It  is  not  I,  but  ray  eyes.  The  Osnovskis  will  gossoon, 
those  ladies  too  :  and  all  will  disappear  like  a  dream. 


408  CHILDREN  OF  THE   SOIL. 

But  he  did  not  speak  truth,  for  he  did  not  believe  that 
all  could  disappear  like  a  dream.  On  the  contrary,  he  felt 
tliat  for  him  a  new  life  had  begun,  which  with  the  departure 
of  Panna  Lineta  might  be  broken. 

"And  where  are  Pani  Bronich  and  Panna  Castelli 
going  ?  "  continued  Pan  Stanislav. 

"  For  the  rest  of  June  and  during  Jujy  they  will  remain 
with  the  Osnovskis,  and  then  go,  as  they  say,  to  Schevenin- 
gen  ;  but  this  is  not  certain  yet." 

"Osnovski's  Prytulov  is  fifteen  miles  from  Warsaw," 
said  Pan  Stanislav. 

For  some  days  Pan  Ignas  had  been  asking  himself,  with 
heart  beating,  whether  they  would  invite  him  or  not;  but 
when  they  invited  him,  and  besides  very  cordially,  he  did 
not  promise  to  go,  and  with  all  his  expressions  of  gratitude 
held  back,  excusing  himself  with  the  plea  of  occupation 
and  lack  of  time.  Lineta,  who  was  sitting  apart,  heard 
him,  and  raised  her  golden  brows.  When  he  was  going,  she 
approached  him  and  asked,  — 

"  Why  will  you  not  come  to  Prytulov  ?  " 

He,  seeing  that  no  one  could  hear  them,  said,  looking 
into  her  eyes,  — 

"  I  am  afraid." 

She  began  to  laugh,  and  inquired,  repeating  Kopovski's 
words,  — 

"  Is  it  necessary  to  take  anything  for  that  ?  " 

"  It  is,"  answered  he,  with  a  voice  somewhat  trembling ; 
"  I  need  to  take  the  word,  come,  from  you  ! " 

She  hesitated  a  moment ;  perhaps  she  did  not  dare  to  tell 
him  directly  in  that  form  which  he  required,  but  she 
blushed  suddenly  and  whispered,'  — 

''Come." 

Then  she  fled,  as  if  ashamed  of  those  colors  on  her  face, 
which,  in  spite  of  the  darkness,  were  increasingly  evident. 

On  the  way  home  it  seemed  to  Pan  Ignas  that  a  shower 
of  stars  was  raining  down  on  him. 

The  departure  of  the  Osnovskis  was  to  take  place  in  ten 
days  only.  Up  to  that  time,  the  painting  of  portraits  was 
to  continue  its  usual  course,  and  to  go  on  in  the  same 
fashion  till  the  last  day,  for  Lineta  did  not  wish  to  lose 
time.  Pani  Aneta  persuaded  her  to  paint  Pan  Ignas  exclu- 
sively, since  Kopovski  would  need  only  as  many  sittings  as 
could  be  arranged  in  Prytulov  just  before  their  departure 
for  Scheweningen.     For  Pan  Ignas  those  sittings  had  be- 


CHILDREN   OF  THE  SOIL.  409 

couie  the  first  need  of  his  life,  as  it  were ;  and  if  by  chance 
there  was  any  interruption,  he  looked  on  that  day  as  lost. 
Pani  Bronich  was  present  at  the  sittings  most  frequently. 
But  he  divined  in  her  a  friendly  soul ;  and  at  last  the  man- 
ner in  which  she  spoke  of  Lineta  began  to  please  him. 
They  both  just  composed  hymns  in  honor  of  Lineta,  whom  in 
confidential  conversation  Pani  Bronich  called  "Nitechka."* 
This  name  pleased  Pan  Ignas  the  more  clearly  he  felt  how 
that  "Nitechka"  (thread)  was  winding  around  his  heart. 

Frequently,  however,  it  seemed  to  him  that  Pani  Bronich 
was  narrating  improbable  things.  It  was  easy  to  believe 
that  Lineta  was  and  could  be  Svirski's  most  capable  pupil ; 
that  Svirski  might  have  called  lier  "La  Perla;"  that  he 
might  have  fallen  in  love  with  her,  as  Pani  Bronich  gave 
one  to  understand.  But  that  Svirski,  known  in  all  Europe, 
and  rewarded  with  gold  medals  at  all  the  exhibitions,  could 
declare  with  tears,  while  looking  at  some  sketch  of  hers, 
that  saving  technique,  he  ought  rather  to  take  lessons  of  her, 
of  this  even  Pan  Ignas  permitted  himself  to  doubt.  And 
somewhere,  in  some  corner  of  his  soul,  in  which  there  was 
hidden  yet  a  small  dose  of  sobriety,  he  wondered  that 
Panna  "  Nitechka"  did  not  contradict  directly,  but  limited 
herself  to  her  words  usual  on  such  occasions :  "  Aunt !  thou 
knowest  that  I  do  not  wish  you  to  repeat  such  things." 

But  at  last  he  lost  even  those  final  gleams  of  sobriety, 
and  began  to  have  feelings  of  tenderness  even  over  the  late 
Bronich,  and  almost  fell  in  love  with  Pani  Bronich,  for  this 
alone,  —  that  he  could  talk  with  her  from  morning  till  night 
of  Lineta. 

In  consequence  of  this  repeated  insistence  of  Pani  Bro- 
nich, he  visited  also,  at  this  time,  old  Pan  Zavilovski,  that 
Croesus,  at  whose  house  he  had  never  been  before.  The 
old  noble,  with  milk-white  mustaches,  a  ruddy  complexion, 
and  gray  hair  closely  trimmed,  received  him  with  his  foot 
in  an  armchair,  and  with  that  peculiar  great-lord  famili- 
arity of  a  man  accustomed  to  this,  —  that  people  count  more 
with  him  than  he  with  them. 

"  I  beg  pardon  for  not  standing,'^  said  he,  "  but  the  gout 
is  no  joke.  Ha,  what  is  to  be  done!  An  inheritance!  It 
seems  that  this  will  be  attached  to  the  name  for  the  ages  of 
ages.  But  hast  thou  not  a  twist  in  thy  thumb  some- 
times ?  " 

1  "Nitechka"  (little  thread)  is  the  diminutive  of  "Nitka,"  itself  a  dj- 
juinutive  of  "Nits,"  which  me.ins  thread. 


410  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

"  No,"  answered  Pan  Ignas,  who  was  a  little  astonished, 
as  well  at  the  manner  of  reception  as  that  the  old  noble 
said  thou  to  him  from  the  first  moment. 

"Wait;  old  age  will  come." 

Then,  calling  his  daughter,  he  presented  Pan  Ignas  to 
her,  and  began  to  speak  of  the  family,  explaining  to  the 
young  man  how  they  were  related.     At  last  he  said,  — 

"Well,  I  have  not  written  verses,  for  I  am  too  dull;  but 
I  must  tell  thee  that  thou  hast  written  them  for  me,  and 
that  I  was  not  ashamed,  though  I  read  my  name  under  the 
verses." 

But  the  visit  was  not  to  end  successfully.  Panna  Zavi- 
lovski,  a  person  of  thirty  years,  good-looking,  but,  as  it 
were,  untimely  faded  and  gloomy,  wishing  to  take  some 
part  in  the  conversation,  began  to  inquire  of  her  "  cousin  " 
whom  he  knew,  and  where  he  visited.  To  every  name 
mentioned,  the  old  noble  appended,  in  one  or  two  words, 
his  opinion.  At  mention  of  Pan  Stanislav,  he  said,  "  Good 
blood ! "  at  Bigiel's,  he  inquired,  *'  How  ?  "  and  when  the 
name  was  repeated,  he  said,  "  Connais  pas  ; "  Pani  Aueta 
he  outlined  with  the  phrase,  "Crested  lark!"  at  mention 
of  Pani  Bronich  he  muttered,  "Babbler;"  at  last,  when 
the  young  man  named,  with  a  certain  confusion,  Panna 
Castelli,  the  noble,  whose  leg  twitched  evidently  at  that 
moment,  twisted  his  face  terribly,  and  exclaimed,  "  Ei !  a 
Venetian  half-devil !  ^^ 

At  this,  it  grew  dark  in  the  eyes  of  Pan  Ignas,  who,  not- 
withstanding his  shyness,  was  impulsive ;  his  lower  jaw 
came  forward  more  than  ever,  and,  rising,  he  measured  with 
a  glance  the  old  man  from  his  aching  foot  to  his  crown, 
and  said,  — 

"  You  have  a  way  of  giving  sharp  judgments,  which  does 
not  suit  me ;  therefore  it  is   pleasant  to  take  farewell." 

And,  bowing,  he  took  his  hat  and  departed. 

Old  Pan   Zavilovski,  who  permitted  himself  everything, 
and  to  whom  everything  was  forgiven,  looked  at  his  daugh- 
ter some  time  with  amazement,  and  only  after  long  silence 
exclaimed,  — 
,  "  What !  has  he  gone  mad  ?  " 

The  young  man  did  not  tell  Pani  Bronich  what  had  hap- 
pened. He  said  merely  that  he  had  made  a  visit,  and  that 
father  and  daughter  alike  did  not  please  him.  She  learned 
everything,  however,  from  the  old  man  himself,  who,  for 
that  matter,  did  not  call  Lineta  anything  but  "  Venetian 
half-devil,"  even  to  her  eyes. 


CHILDREN    OF  THE   SOIL.  411 

"But  to  make  the  matter  perfect,  you  have  sent  me  a  full 
devil,"  said  he ;  "  it  is  .well  that  he  did  not  break  my 
head." 

Still  in  his  voice  one  might  note  a  species  of  satisfaction 
that  it  was  a  Zavilovskl  who  had  shown  himsef  so  resolute; 
but  Pani  r)ronich  did  not  note  it.  She  took  the  affair  some- 
what to  heart,  and,  to  the  great  astonishment  of  the  "  full- 
devil,"  said  to  him,  — 

"  He  is  wild  about  Lineta,  and  with  him  this  is  a  sort  of 
term  of  tenderness ;  besides,  one  should  forgive  a  man 
much  who  has  such  a  position,  and  in  this  age.  It  must  be 
that  you  have  n't  read  Krashevski's  novel,  '  Venetian  Half- 
Devil.'  This  is  a  title  in  which  there  is  a  certain  poetry 
ever  since  that  author  used  it.  When  the  old  man  grows 
good-natured,  write  him  a  couple  of  words,  will  you  not  ? 
Such  relations  should  be  kept  up." 

"  Pani,"  answered  I'an  Ignas,  "  I  would  not  write  to  him 
for  anything  in  the  world." 

"  Even  if  some  one  besides  me  should  ask  ?  " 

"  That  is  —  again,  I  am  not  a  stone." 

Lineta  laughed  when  she  heard  these  words.  In  secret 
she  was  pleased  that  Pan  Ignas,  at  one  word  touching  her 
which  to  him  seemed  offensive,  sprang  up  as  if  he  had 
heard  a  blasphemy.  So  that  during  the  sitting,  when  for  a 
while  they  were  alone,  she  said,  — 

"  It  is  wonderful  how  little  I  believe  in  the  sincerity  of 
people.  So  difficult  is  it  for  me  to  believe  that  any  one, 
except  aunt,  should  wish  me  well  really." 

''  Why  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know.     I  cannot  explain  it  to  myself." 

"  But,  for  example,  the  Osnovskis  ?  Pani  Aneta  ?" 

"Pani  Aneta?"  repeated  Lineta. 

And  she  began  to  paint  diligently,  as  if  she  had  forgotten 
the  question. 

"  But  I  ?  "  asked  Pan  Ignas,  in  a  lower  voice. 

"You  — yes  You,  I  am  sure,  would  not  let  anyone 
speak  ill  of  me.  I  feel  that  you  are  sincerely  well-wishing, 
though  I  know  not  why,  for  in  general  I  am  of  so  little 
worth."  ^  .     . 

"You  of  little  worth!"  cried  Pan  Ignas,  springing  up. 
"Remember  that,  in  truth,  I^  will  let  no  one  speak  ill  ot 
you,  not  even  you  yourself." 

Lineta  laughed  and  said,—  .     ^^ 

"  Very  well ;  but  sit  down,  for  I  cannot  paint. 


412  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

He  sat  dowu ;  but  he  looked  at  her  with  a  gaze  so  full  of 
love  and  enchantment  that  it  began  to  confuse  her. 

"What  a  disobedient  model!  "  said  she  ;  ''turn  your  head 
to  the  right  a  little,  and  do  not  look  at  me." 

"I  cannot!  I  cannot!  "  answered  Pan  Ignas. 

"And  I,  in  truth,  cannot  paint,  for  the  head  was  begun 
in  another  position.     Wait ! " 

Then  she  approached  him,  and,  taking  his  temples  with 
her  fingers,  turned  his  head  toward  the  right  slightly.  His 
heart  began  to  beat  like  a  hammer;  everything  went  around 
in  his  eyes;  and,  holding  the  hand  of  Lineta,  he  pressed 
her  warm  palm  to  his  lips,  and  made  no  answer,  —  he  only 
pressed  it  more  firmly. 

"Talk  with  aunt,"  said  she,  hurriedly.  "We  are  going 
to-morrow." 

They  could  not  say  more,  for  that  moment  Osnovski, 
Kopovski,  and  Pani  Aneta,  who  had  been  sitting  in  the 
drawing-room  adjoining,  came  into  the  studio. 

Pani  Aneta,  seeing  Lineta's  blushing  cheeks,  looked 
quickly  at  Pan  Ignas,  and  asked,  — 

"How  is  it  going  with  you  to-day?" 

"Where  is  aunt?"  inquired  Lineta. 

"She  went  out  to  make  visits." 

"Long  since?" 

"A  few  minutes  ago.    How  has  it  gone  with  you?" 

"Well;  but  enough  for  to-day." 

Lineta  put  down  her  brush,  and  after  a  moment  went  to 
wash  her  hands.  Pan  Ignas  remained  there,  answer- 
ing, with  more  or  less  presence  of  mind,  questions  put 
to  him;  but  he  wanted  to  go.  He  feared  the  conversa- 
tion with  Pani  Bronich,  and,  with  the  habit  of  cowards,  he 
wished  to  defer  it  till  the  morrow ;  he  wanted,  besides,  to 
remain  a  while  with  his  own  thoughts,  to  arrange  them ,  to 
estimate  better  the  significance  of  what  had  happened.  For 
at  that  moment  he  had  in  his  head  merely  a  certain  chaos 
of  indefinite  thoughts;  he  understood  that  something  un- 
paralleled had  happened,  —  something  from  which  a  new 
epoch  in  life  would  begin.  At  the  very  thought  of  this, 
a  quiver  of  happiness  passed  through  him,  but  also  a 
quiver  of  fear,  for  he  felt  that  now  it  was  too  late  to 
withdraw;  through  love,  through  confession,  through  dec- 
laration to  the  lady  and  to  her  family,  he  must  advance 
to  the  altar.  He  desired  this  with  his  whole  soul;  but  he 
was  so  accustomed  to  consider  everything  that  was  happi- 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  413 

ness  as  a  poetic  imagining,  as  something  belonging  exclu- 
sively to  the  world  of  thought,  art,  and  dreams,  that  he 
almost  lacked  daring  to  believe  that  Lineta  could  become 
his  wife  really.  Meanwhile  he  had  barely  endurance  to 
sit  out  the  time ;  and  when  Lineta  returned,  he  rose  to  take 
leave. 

She  gave  him  her  hand,  cooled  by  fresh  water,  and 
said, — 

"Will  you  not  wait  for  aunt?" 

"I  must  go;  and  to-morrow  I  will  take  farewell  of  you 
and  Pani  Bronich." 

"Then  till  our  next  meeting!  " 

This  farewell  seemed  to  Pan  Ignas,  after  what  had 
happened,  so  inappropriate  and  cold  that  despair  seized 
him;  but  he  had  not  the  daring  to  part  before  people 
otherwise,  all  the  more  that  Pani  Aneta  was  looking  at 
him  with  uncommon  attention. 

"Wait!  I  have  something  to  do  in  the  city;  we'll  go 
together,"  said  Osnovski,  as  he  was  going  out. 

And  they  went  together;  but  barely  were  they  outside 
the  gate  of  the  villa,  when  Pan  Osnovski  stopped,  and  put 
his  hand  on  the  poet's  arm. 

"Pan  Ignas,  have  you  not  quarrelled  a  little  with 
Lineta? " 

Pan  Ignas  looked  at  him  with  great  eyes. 

"I?  with  Panna  Lineta?" 

"Yes,  for  you  parted  somehow  coldly.  I  thought  you 
were  as  far,  at  least,  as  hand -kissing." 

Pan  Ignas's  eyes  grew  still  larger;  Osnovski  laughed, 
and  said,  — 

"Well,  I'll  tell  you  the  truth.  My  wife,  as  a  woman 
who  is  curious,  looked  at  you,  and  said  that  something  had 
happened.  My  Pan  Ignas,  you  have  in  me  a  great  friend, 
who,  besides,  knows  what  it  is  to  love.  I  can  say  to  you 
only  one  thing, —God  grant  you  to  be  as  happy  as  I 
am!"  , 

When  he  had  said  this,  he  began  to  shake  his  guest  s 
hand;  and  Pan  Ignas,  though  confused  to  the  highest 
degree,  was  barely  able  to  refrain  from  falling  on  his  neck. 

"Have  vou  really  some  work  to-day?  Why  did  you 
go?" 

"I  will  tell  you  sincerely.  I  wanted  to  collect  ray 
thoughts,    and,    besides,    fear    of    Pani    Bronich    seized 


414  CHILDREN  OF  THE   SOIL 

"Then  you  do  not  know  aunt?  Her  head,  too,  is  warm 
with  the  question.  Come  with  me  a  bit  of  the  road,  and 
then  go  back  without  ceremony.  On  the  way  you  will  col- 
lect your  thoughts;  by  that  time  Paul  Bronich  will  be  at 
home,  and  you  will  tell  her  your  little  story,  at  which  she 
will  weep.  Nothing  else  threatens  you.  llemeniber,  too, 
that  if  you  are  fortunate  you  are  to  thank  mainly  my  Aneta, 
for,  as  God  lives,  she  has  filled  Castelka's  head,  as  your 
own  sister  might.  She  has  such  an  impetuous  head,  and 
at  the  same  time  such  an  honest  heart.  Equally  good 
women  there  may  be,  but  a  better  there  is  not  on  earth. 
It  seemed  to  us  a  little  that  that  fool  Kopovski  was  in- 
clined to  Castelka,  and  Aneta  was  tremendously  angry. 
They  like  Kopovski;  but  to  let  her  marry  such  a  man  — 
that  would  be  too  much." 

Thus  talking,  he  took  Pan  Ignas  by  the  hand,  and  after 
a  moment,  continued,  "We  are  to  be  relatives  soon;  let  us 
drop  ceremony  and  say  thou  to  each  other.  I  must  tell 
thee  further:  I  have  no  doubt  Castelka  loves  thee  with 
her  whole  heart,  for  she  is  a  true  woman  also.  Besides, 
they  have  turned  her  head  with  thee  greatly ;  but  she  is 
so  young  yet  that  I  tell  thee  to  throw  fuel  on  the  fire  — 
throw  it!  Dost  understand?  What  is  begun  should 
become  rooted;  this  can  happen  easily,  for  hers  is  really 
an  uncommon  nature.  Do  not  think  that  I  wish  to  fore- 
warn or  to  frighten  thee.  No;  it  is  a  question  only  of 
making  things  permanent.  That  she  loves  thee  is  not 
subject  to  doubt.  If  thy  eyes  had  but  seen  her  when  she 
was  carrying  thy  book  around,  or  what  happened  when 
she  and  thou  were  returning  from  the  theatre.  A  stupid 
thought  came  to  my  head  then.  I  spoke  of  having  heard 
that  old  Zavilovski  wished  to  make  thy  acquaintance 
because  he  had  planned  to  marry  thee  to  his  daughter,  so 
that  his  property  might  not  leave  the  name ;  and  imagine 
to  thyself,  that  poor  girl,  when  she  heard  this,  became  as 
pale  as  paper,  so  that  I  was  frightened,  and  took  back  my 
words  in  all  haste.     What  is  thy  answer  to  this?  " 

Pan  Ignas  wanted  to  laugh  and  to  weep;  but  he  merely 
pressed  to  his  side,  and  pressed  with  all  his  force,  Osnov- 
ski's  hand,  which  he  held  under  his  arm,  and  said,  after  a 
while, — 

"I  am  not  worthy  of  her,  no." 

"Well,  and  after  that  *  no  '  perhaps  thou  wilt  say,  *  No, 
I  do  not  love  her  properly. '  " 


CHILDREN  OF  THE   SOIL.  415 

• 

"That  may  be  true,"  answered  Pan  Ignas,  raising  his 
eyes. 

"Well,  go  back  now,  and  tell  thy  little  story  to  Aunt 
Bronich,  Do  not  fear  being  too  pathetic;  slie  likes  that. 
Till  we  meet  again,  Ignas !  I  shall  be  back  myself  in  an 
hour  or  so,  and  we  shall  have  a  betrothal  evening." 

Tliey  pressed  each  other's  hands,  and  Osnovski  said,  with 
a  feeling  which  was  quite  brotherly,  — 

"I  repeat  once  more:  God  grant  thee  to  find  in  Castelka 
such  a  wife  as  ray  Anetka!  " 

On  the  way  back  Pan  Ignas  thought  that  Osnovski  was 
an  angel,  Pani  Osnovski  another,  Pani  Bronich  a  third, 
and  Lineta,  soaring  above  them  all  on  the  wings  of  an 
archangel,  something  divine  and  sacred.  He  understood 
at  that  moment  that  a  heart  might  love  to  pain.  In  his 
soul  he  was  kneeling  at  her  knees,  bowing  to  the  earth  at 
her  feet;  he  loved  her,  deified  her,  and  to  all  these  feel- 
ings, which  were  playing  in  him  one  great  hymn,  as  it 
were,  to  greet  the  dawn,  was  joined  a  feeling  of  such 
tenderness,  as  if  that  magnified  woman  was  also  a  little 
child,  alone,  and  wonderfully  loved,  but  a  little  thing, 
needing  care.  He  recalled  Osnovski 's  story  of  how  she 
had  grown  pale  when  they  told  her  that  there  was  a  plan 
to  marry  him  to  another;  and  in  his  soul  he  repeated, 
"Ah,  but  thou  art  mine,  thou  art  mine!  "  He  grew  tender 
beyond  measure,  and  gratitude  so  filled  his  heart  that  it 
seemed  to  him  that  he  could  not  repay  her  in  a  lifetime 
for  that  one  moment  of  paleness.  He  felt  happier  than 
ever  before;  and  at  moments  the  immensity  of  this  happi- 
ness almost  frightened  him.  Hitherto  he  had  been  a 
theoretical  pessimist,  but  now  reality  gave  the  lie  to  those 
passing  theories  with  such  power  that  it  was  hard  for  him 
to  believe  that  he  could  have  deceived  himself  to  such  a 
degree. 

Meanwhile  he  was  returning  to  the  villa,  inhaling  along 
the  way  the  odor  of  blo'oming  jasmines,  and  having  some 
species  of  dim  feeling  that  that  intoxicating  odor  was 
nothing  external,  but  simply  a  part  and  component  of  his 
happiness.  "  What  people !  what  a  house !  what  a  family !  " 
said  he  to  himself;  "only  among  them  could  my  White 
One  be  reared!"  Then  he  looked  on  the  sun,  setting  in 
calmness;  he  looked  at  the  golden  curtains  of  evening, 
bordered  with  purple;  and  that  calmness  began  to  possess 
him.     In  those  immense  lights  he  felt  boundless  love  and 


416  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.   - 

kindness,  which  look  on  the  world,  cherish,  and  bless  it. 
He  did  not  pray  in  words,  it  is  true;  but  everything  was 
singing  one  thanksgiving  prayer  in  his  soul. 

At  the  gate  of  the  villa  he  recovered  as  if  from  a  dream; 
he  saw  an  old  serving-man  of  the  Osnovskis,  who  was  look- 
ing at  the  passing  carriages. 

"Good-evening,  Stauislav,"  said  he;  "but  has  not  Pan i 
Bronich  returned?  " 

"I  am  just  looking,  but  I  do  not  see  her." 

"Are  the  ladies  in  the  drawing-room  yet?" 

"They  are;  and  Pan  Kopovski,  too." 

"But  who  will  open  for  me?" 

"The  door  is  open.     1  've  come  out  only  this  minute." 

Pan  Ignas  went  up;  but,  finding  no  one  in  the  common 
drawing-room,  he  went  to  the  studio.  There,  too,  he  found 
no  one;  but  in  the  adjoining  smaller  chamber  certain  low 
voices  reached  him  through  the  portiere  dividing  that 
room  from  the  studio.  Thinking  to  find  there  both  ladies 
and  Kopovski,  he  drew  aside  the  portiere  slightly,  and, 
looking  in,  was  stupefied. 

Lineta  was  not  in  the  room ;  but  Kopovski  was  kneeling 
before  Pani  Osnovski,  who,  holding  her  hands  thrust  into 
his  abundant  hair,  was  bending  his  head  back,  inclining 
her  face  at  the  same  time,  as  if  to  place  a  kiss  on  his 
forehead. 

"Anetka,  if  thou  love  me  — "  said  Kopovski,  with  a 
voice  stifled  from  passion. 

"I  love  —  but  no!  I  don't  want  that,"  answered  Pani 
Osnovski,  pushing  him  away  somewhat. 

Pan  Ignas  dropped  the  portiere  with  an  involuntary 
movement;  for  a  moment  he  stood  before  it  as  if  his  feet 
had  grown  leaden.  Finally,  without  giving  himself  a  clear 
account  of  what  he  was  doing,  he  passed  through  the  studio, 
where  the  sound  of  his  steps  was  deadened  on  the  thick 
carpet,  as  it  had  been  when  he  entered ;  he  passed  the  main 
drawing-room,  the  entrance,  the  front  steps,  and  came  to 
himself  at  the  gate  of  the  villa. 

"Is  the  serene  lord  going  out?"  inquired  the  old  serving- 
man. 

"Yes,"  answered  Pan  Ignas. 

He  walked  away  as  quickly  as  if  escaping  from  some- 
thing. After  a  time,  however,  he  stopped,  and  said  aloud 
to  himself , — 

"Why  have  I  not  gone  mad?" 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  417 

And  suddenly  madness  seemed  to  him  possible,  for  he 
felt  that  he  was  losing  the  thread  of  his  thoughts-  that 
he  could  not  give  himself  an  account  of  anything;  that  he 
understood  nothing,  believed  nothing.  Something  began 
to  tear  in  him,  fall  away.  How  was  it?  That  house 
which  a  moment  before  he  thought  to  be  some  kind  of 
blessed  retreat  of  exceptional  souls,  conceals  the  usual 
falsehood,  the  usual  wickedness,  the  usual  vileness  of  life, 
—  a  wretched  and  shameful  comedy.  And  his  Lineta,  his 
White  One,  is  breathing  such  an  atmosphere,  living  in 
such  an  environment,  existing  with  such  beings!  Here 
Osnovski's  words  occurred  to  him :  '•  God  grant  thee  to  find 
in  Castelka  such  a  wife  as  I  have  in  my  Anetka ! "  "I  thank 
thee, I"  thought  Pan  Ignas,  and  he  began  to  laugh,  in  spite 
of  himself.  Xeither  evil  nor  vileness  were  to  him  a 
novelty:  he  had  seen  them,  and  he  knew  that  they  existed; 
but  for  the  first  time  life  showed  them  to  him  with  such 
a  merciless  irony,  as  that  through  which  Pan  Osnovski,  — 
a  man  who  had  shown  him  the  heart  of  a  brother;  a  man 
honest,  just,  kind  as  few  people  in  the  world  are  —  turned 
out  to  be  also  a  fool,  a  kind  of  exalted  idiot,  exalted 
through  his  faith  and  his  feeling;  an  idiot  through  a 
woman.  And  for  the  first  time,  too,  be  saw  clearly  what 
a  bad  and  contemptible  woman  may  make  of  a  man,  with- 
out any  fault  of  his.  On  a  sudden  new,  dreadful  horizons 
of  life  opened  before  him,  —  whole  regions,  the  exist- 
ence of  which  he  had  not  suspected;  he  had  understood 
before  that  an  evil  woman,  like  a  vampire,  may  suck  the 
life  out  of  a  man,  and  kill  him,  and  that  seemed  to  him 
demonic,  but  he  had  not  imagined  that  she  could  make  a 
fool  of  him  also.  He  could  not  master  that  thought.  But 
still,  Osnovski  was  ridiculous  svhen  he  wished  him  to  be 
as  happy  with  his  future  wife  as  he  with  Anetka;  there 
was  no  help  for  this  case  either.  One  should  not  so  love 
as  to  grow  blind  to  that  degree. 

Here  his  thoughts  passed  to  Lineta.  At  the  first  moment 
he  had  a  feeling  that  from  that  vileness  in  the  house  of 
the  Osnovskis,  and  from  that  doubt  which  was  born  in  his 
heart,  a  certain  shadow  fell  on  her  also.  After  a  while  he 
began,  however,  to  cast  out  that  feeling  as  though  it  were 
profanation,  treason  against  innocence,  treason  against  a 
being  as  pure  as  she  was  beloved,  and  defiling  in  thought 
her  and  her  angelic  plumage.  Indignation  at  himself 
seized  him.     "  Does  such  a  dove  even  think  evil  ?  "  asked 

S7 


418  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

he,  in  his  soul.  And  his  love  rose  still  more  at  the  thought 
that  "such  a  super-pure  child"  must  come  in  contact  with 
such  depravity.  He  would  take  her  with  the  utmost 
haste  possible  from  Pani  Osnovski's,  guard  her  from  that 
woman's  influence,  seize  her  in  his  arms,  and  bear  her^ 
from  that  house,  in  which  her  innocent  eyes  might  be 
opened  on  evil  and  depravity.  A  certain  demon  whis- 
pered at  moments  to  his  ear,  it  is  true,  that  Osnovski,  too, 
believes  as  he  does,  and  that  he  would  give  his  own  blood 
in  pledge  for  his  wife's  honesty;  he  too  would  count 
every  doubt  a  profanation  of  her  sacredness.  But  Pan 
Iguas  drove  away  those  whisperings  with  dread.  "It  is 
enough  to  look  into  her  eyes,"  said  he;  and  at  the  mere 
thought  of  those  eyes,  he  was  ready  to  beat  his  own  breast, 
as  if  he  had  sinned  most  grievously.  He  was  also  angry  at 
himself  because  he  had  come  out,  because  he  had  not 
waited  for  Pani  Bronich,  and  had  not  strengthened  him- 
self with  the  sight  of  Lineta.  He  remembered  now  how 
he  had  pressed  her  hand  to  his  lips;  how  she,  changing 
from  emotion,  said  to  him,  "Speak  with  aunt."  How 
much  angelic  simplicity  and  purity  there  was  in  those 
words!  what  honesty  of  a  soul,  which,  loving,  wishes  to 
be  free  to  love  before  the  whole  world !  Pan  Ignas,  when 
he  thought  of  this,  was  seized  by  a  desire  to  return ;  but 
he  felt  that  he  was  too  much  excited,  and  that  he  could 
not  explain  his  former  presence  if  the  servant  should 
mention  it. 

Then  again  the  picture  rose  before  his  eyes  of  Kopovski 
kneeling  to  Pani  Osnovski;  and  he  fell  to  inquiring  of  him- 
self what  he  was  to  do  in  view  of  this,  and  how  he  was  to 
act.  Warn  Osnovski?  he  rejected  this  thought  at  once 
with  indignation.  Shut  himself  in  with  Pani  Osnovski, 
and  give  her  a  sermon,  eye  to  eye?  She  would  show  him 
the  door.  After  a  time  it  came  to  his  head  to  threaten 
Kopovski,  and  force  from  him  a  promise  to  cease  visiting 
the  Osnovskis.  But  soon  he  saw  that  that,  too,  was  use- 
less. Kopovski,  if  he  had  even  a  small  share  of  courage, 
would  give  him  the  lie,  challenge  him ;  in  such  a  case  he 
would  have  to  be  silent,  and  people  would  think  that  the 
scandal  rose  because  of  Panna  Castelli.  Pan  Ignas  was 
sorry  for  Osnovski;  he  had  conceived  for  the  man  a  true 
friendship,  and,  on  the  other  hand,  he  was  too  young  to 
be  reconciled  at  once  with  the  thought  that  evil  and  human 
crookedness  were  to  continue  unpunished.     Ah!  but  if  at 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  419 

that  juncture  lie  could  have  counselled  with  some  one,  — • 
for  instance,  with  Pan  Stanislav  or  Marynia.  But  that 
could  not  be.  And  after  long  thought  he  resolved  to  bury 
all  in  himself,  and  be  silent. 

At  the  same  time,  from  tlie  passionate  prayer  of  Kopovski 
and  the  answer  of  Pani  Aneta,  he  inferred  that  the  evil 
might  not  have  passed  yet  into  complete  fall.  He  did  not 
know  women;  but  he  had  read  no  little  about  them.  He 
knew  that  there  exists  some  for  whom  the  form  of  evil  has 
more  charm  than  the  substance;  that  there  are  women 
devoid  of  moral  sense,  but  also  of  passion,  who  have  just 
as  much  desire  for  a  prohibited  adveuture  as  they  have 
repugnance  to  complete  fall,  —  in  a  word,  those  who  are 
incapable  of  loving  anybody,  who  deceive  their  lovers  as 
well  as  their  husbands.  He  recalled  the  words  of  a  certain 
Frenchman:  "If  Eve  had  been  Polish,  she  would  have 
plucked  the  apple,  but  not  eaten  it."  A  similar  typb 
seemed  to  him  Pani  Aneta;  vice  might  be  in  her  as  super- 
ficial as  virtue,  and  in  such  case  the  forbidden  relation 
might  annoy  her  very  soon,  especially  with  a  man  like 
Kopovski. 

Here,  however,  Pan  Ignas  lost  the  basis  of  reasoning 
and  the  key  to  the  soul  of  Pani  Aneta.  He  would  have 
understood  relations  with  any  other  man  more  readily  than 
with  Kopovski,  —  that  archangel  with  the  bra,ins  of  an 
idiot.  "A  poodle  understands  more  of  what  is  said  to 
him,"  thought  Pan  Ignas;  "and  a  woman  with  such  aspira- 
tions to  reason,  to  science,  to  art,  to  the  understanding  of 
every  thought  and  feeling,  could  lower  herself  for  such  a 
head !  "  He  could  not  explain  this  to  himself,  even  with 
what  he  had  read  about  women. 

And  still  reality  said  more  definitely  than  all  books 
that  it  was  so.  Suddenly  Pan  Ignas  remembered  what 
Osnovski  had  said  to  him  about. their  fear  lest  that  fool 
might  have  plans  against  Castelka,  that  the  mention  of 
this  had  angered  Pani  Aneta  immensely,  and  that  she 
filled  Lineta's  head  with  feeling  for  another.  So  then,  for 
Pani  Aneta  the  question  consisted  in  this,  that  Kopovski 
should  not  pav  court  to  Lineta.  She  wanted  to  save  hira 
for  herself.  Here  Pan  Ignas  shivered  all  at  once,  for  the 
thought  struck  hira,  that  if  that  were  true,  Kopovski  must 
have  had  some  chance  of  success;  and  again  a  shadow  pur- 
sued  the  bright  form  of  Lineta.  If  that  were  true,  she 
would  fall  in  his  eyes  to  the  level  of  Pani  Aneta.     After  a 


420  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

time  he  felt  bitterness  in  his  mouth  and  fire  in  his  brain. 
Anger  sprang  upon  him,  like  a  tempest;  he  could  not  for- 
give  her  this,  and  the  very  suspicion  would  have  poisoned 
him.  Halting  again  on  the  street,  he  felt  that  he  must 
throttle  that  thought  in  himself,  or  go  mad  from  it. 

In  fact,  he  put  it  down  so  elfectively  that  he  recognized 
himself  as  the  lowest  fool  for  this  alone,  — that  the  thought 
could  come  to  him.  That  Lineta  was  incapable  of  loving 
Kopovski  was  shown  best  by  this,  — that  she  had  fallen  in 
love  with  him,  Pan  Ignas;  and  the  fears  and  suspicions  of 
Pani  Aneta  flowed  only  from  the  self-love  of  a  vain  woman, 
who  was  afraid  that  another  might  be  recognized  as  more 
attractive  and  beautiful  than  she  was.  Pan  Ignas  had  the 
feeling  of  having  pushed  from  his  breast  a  stone,  which 
had  oppressed  him.  He  began  then  in  spirit  to  implore 
on  his  knees  pardon  of  the  unspotted  one ;  and  thenceforth 
his  thoughts  touching  her  were  full  of  love,  homage,  and 
contrition. 

Now  he  made  the  remark  to  himself  that"  evil,  though 
committed  by  another,  bears  evil;  how  many  foul  thoughts 
had  passed  through  his  mind  only  because  he  had  seen  a 
fool  at  the  feet  of  a  giddy  head!  He  noted  that  considera- 
tion down  in  his  memory. 

When  near  his  lodgings  he  met  Pan  Stanislav  with  Pani 
Mashko  on  his  arm;  and  that  day  had  so  poisoned  him  that 
a  sudden  suspicion  flashed  through  his  mind.  But  Pan 
Stanislav  recognized  him  in  the  light  of  the  moon  and  a 
lamp,  and  had  no  desire  to  hide  evidently,  for  he  stopped 
him. 

"  Good-evening,"  said  he.    "  Why  home  so  early  to-day?  " 

"  I  was  at  Pani  Bronich's,  and  I  am  just  strolling  about, 
for  the  evening  is  beautiful." 

"Then  step  in  to  us.  As  soon  as  I  conduct  this  lady 
home,  I  will  return.  My  wife  has  not  seen  you  this  long 
time." 

"I  will  go,"  said  Pan  Ignas. 

And  a  desire  to  see  Pani  Marynia  had  seized  him  really. 
So  many  thoughts  and  feelings  had  rushed  through  him 
that  he  was  weary ;  and  he  knew  that  the  calm  and  kind 
face  of  Marynia  would  act  on  him  soothingly. 

Soon  he  rang  the  bell  at  Pan  Stanislav's.  When  he  had 
entered,  he  explained,  after  the  greeting,  that  he  came  at 
the  request  of  her  husband,  to  which  she  answered,  — 

"Of  course!      I   am  very  glad.      My  husband  at  this 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  421 

moment  is  escorting  home  Pani  Mashko,  who  visited 
me,  but  he  will  return  to  tea.  The  Bigiels  will  be  here 
surely,  and  perhaps  my  father  will  come,  if  he  has  not 
gone  to  the  theatre." 

Then  she  indicated  a  place  at  the  table  to  him,  and, 

straightening  the  lamp  shade,    began   on  the  work  with 

which  she  was  occupied  previously,  —  making  little  rosettes 

of  narrow  red  and  blue  ribbons,  of  which  there  was  a  pile 

•  lying  before  her. 

"  What  are  you  making?  "  asked  Pan  Ignas. 

"Rosettes.     They  are  sewed  to  various  costumes." 

After  a  while  she  added,  — 

"But  this  is  far  more  interesting,  —  what  are  you  doing? 
Do  you  know  that  all  Warsaw  is  marrying  you  to  Lineta 
Castelli?  They  have  seen  you  both  in  the  theatre,  at  the 
races;  they  see  you  at  the  promenades;  and  it  is  impossible 
to  persuade  them  that  the  affair  is  not  decided  already." 

"Since  I  have  spoken  with  you  so  openly,  I  will  tell  you 
now  that  it  is  almost  decided." 

Marynia  raised  to  him  eyes  enlivened  with  a  smile  and 
with  curiosity. 

"Is  that  true?  Ah,  that  is  a  perfect  piece  of  news! 
May  God  give  you  such  happiness  as  we  wish  you !  " 

Then  she  stretched  her  hand  to  him,  and  afterward 
inquired  with  roused  curiosity,  — 

"Have  you  spoken  with  Lineta?" 

Pan  Ignas  told  her  how  it  was,  and  acknowledged  his 
conversation  with  Lineta  and  with  Osnovski;  then,  letting 
himself  be  borne  away  in  the  narrative,  he  confessed  every- 
thing that  had  happened  to  him  —  how,  from  the  beginning, 
he  had  observed,  criticised,  and  struggled  with  himself; 
how  he  had  not  dared  to  hope;  how  he  had  tried  to  drive 
that  feeling  from  his  head,  or  rather,  from  his  heart,  and 
how  he  could  not  resist  it.  He  assured  her  that  he  had 
promised  himself  a  number  of  times  to  cut  short  the 
acquaintance  and  the  visits,  but  strength  failed  him  each 
time;  each  time  he  saw  with  amazement  that  the  whole 
world,  the  whole  object  of  his  life,  was  there;  that  without 
her,  without  Lineta,  he  would  not  know  what  to  do  with 
his  life  —  and  he  Avent  back  to  her. 

Pan  Ignas  had  not  observed  himself  less  truthfully,  but 
he  criticised  and  struggled  less  than  he  said.  He  spoke 
sincerely,  however.  He  added  at  the  end  that  he  knew 
with  certainty  that  he  loved,  not  his  own  feelings  involved 


422  CHILDREN  OF  THE   SOIL. 

in  Lineta,  but  Lineta  herself,  for  herself,  and  that  she  was 
the  dearest  person  on  earth  to  him. 

"  Think,"  said  he,  "  others  have  families,  mothers,  sisters, 
brothers;  I,  except  my  unfortunate  father,  have  no  one, 
and  therefore  my  love  for  the  whole  world  is  centred 
in  her." 

"True,"  said  Marynia;  "that  had  to  come." 

"  This  seems  a  dream  to  me, "  continued  he ;  "  it  cannot 
find  place  in  my  head  that  she  will  be  my  wife  really. 
At  times  it  seems  to  me  that  this  cannot  happen;  that 
something  will  intervene;  that  all  will  be  lost." 

In  fact,  this  feeling  was  strengthened  in  him  by  exalta- 
tion, to  which  he  was  more  inclined  than  other  men,  and 
at  last  he  began  to  tremble  nervously;  then  he  covered  his 
eyes  with  his  hands,  and  said,  — 

"  You  see  I  must  shield  my  eyes  to  imagine  this  properly. 
Such  happiness!  such  fabulous  happiness!  What  does  a 
man  seek  in  life,  and  in  marriage?  Just  that,  and  in  its 
own  course  that  exceeds  his  strength.  I  do  not  know 
whether  I  am  so  weak  or  what?  but  I  say  sincerely  that 
at  times  breath  fails  me. " 

Marynia  placed  her  rosette  on  the  table,  and,  putting  her 
hands  on  it,  looked  at  him  for  a  while,  then  said,  — 

"You  are  a  poet,  and  are  carried  away  too  much;  you 
should  look  more  calmly.  Listen  to  what  I  will  tell  you. 
I  have  a  little  book  from  my  mother,  in  which,  while  she 
was  sick  and  without  hope  of  recovery,  she  wrote  for  me 
what  she  thought  was  good.  About  marriage  she  wrote 
down  something  which  later  I  have  not  heard  from  any 
one,  and  have  not  read  in  any  book, — that  is,  that  one 
should  not  marry  to  be  happy,  but  to  accomplish  those 
duties  which  God  imposes  at  marriage;  and  that  happi- 
ness is  only  an  addition,  a  gift  of  God.  You  see  how 
simple  this  is;  and  still  it  is  true  that  not  only  have  I 
not  heard  it  since,  but  I  have  not  seen  any  woman  or  any 
man  about  to  marry  who  thought  more  of  duty  than  of 
happiness.  Remember  this,  and  repeat  it  to  Lineta,  — will 
you?" 

Pan  Ignas  looked  at  her  with  atonishment. 

"  Do  you  know  this  is  so  simple  that  really  it  will  never 
come  to  any  one's  mind?" 

She  laughed  a  little  sadly,  and,  taking  her  rosette,  began 
again  to  sew.     After  a  while  she  repeated,  — 

"Tell  that  to  Lineta." 


CHILDREN  OF  THE   SOIL.  423 

And  she  sewed  on,  drawing  out  with  quick  movement 
her  somewhat  thin  hand,  together  with  the  needle. 

"  You  will  understand  that  if  one  has  such  a  principle  in 
the  heart,  one  has  perpetual  peace,  more  joyous,  or  sadder 
as  God  grants,  but  still  deep.  But  without  that  there  is 
only  a  kind  of  feverish  haj^piness,  and  deceptions  always 
at  hand,  even  if  only  for  this  reason, —that  happiness 
may  be  different  from  what  we  imagine  it."  And  she 
sewed  on. 

He  looked  at  her  inclined  head,  at  her  moving  hand,  at 
her  Avork;  he  heard  her  voice;  and  it  seemed  to  him  that 
that  peace  of  which  she  had  spoken  was  floating  above  her, 
was  tilling  the  whole  atmosphere,  was  suspended  above  the 
table,  was  burning  mildly  in  the  lamp,  and  finally,  was 
entering  him. 

He  was  so  occupied  with  himself,  with  his  love,  that  it 
did  not  even  occur  to  him  that  her  heart  could  be  sad. 
Meanwhile  he  was  penetrated,  as  it  were,  by  a  double 
astonishment:  first,  that  these  truths  which  she  had  told 
him  were  such  an  a,  h,  c,  that  they  ought  to  lie  on  the 
very  surface  of  every  thought;  and  second,  that  in  spite  of 
this,  his  own  thought  had  not  worked  them  out  of  itself, 
or,  at  least,  had  not  looked  at  them.  "What  is  that," 
thought  he,  "  our  wisdom,  bookish  in  comparison  with  that 
simple  wisdom  of  an  honest  woman's  heart?"  Then,  re- 
calling Pani  Aneta,  and  looking  at  Marynia,  he  began  this 
monologue  in  his  soul,  "That  woman  and  this  woman!" 
And  suddenly  there  came  to  him  immense  solace;  all  his 
disturbed  thoughts  settled  down  to  their  level.  He  felt 
that  he  was  resting  while  looking  at  that  noble  woman. 
"In  Lineta,"  said  he  to  himself,  "there  is  the  same  calm- 
ness, the  same  simplicity,  and  the  same  honesty." 

Now  Pan  Stanislav  came,  a  little  later  the  Bigiels,  after 
which  the  violoncello  was  brought.  At  tea  Pan  Stanislav 
spoke  of  Mashko.  Mashko  conducted  the  suit  against  the 
will  with  all  energy,  and  it  advanced,  though  there  were 
difficulties  at  every  step.  The  advocate  on  the  side  of  the 
benevolent  institutions  —  that  young  Sledz  (herring),  whom 
Mashko  promised  to  sprinkle  with  pepper,  cover  with  oil, 
and  swallow  —  turned  out  not  to  be  so  easily  eaten  as  had 
seemed.  Pan  Stanislav  heard  that  he  was  a  man  cool, 
resolute,  and  at  the  same  time  a  skilled  lawyer. 

"What  is  amusing,  withal,"  said  he,  "is,  that  Mashko, 
as  Mashko,  considers  himself  a  kind  of  patrician,  who  is 


424  CHILDREN  OF  THE^SOIL. 

fighting  with  a  plebeian,  and  says  this  will  be  a  test  of 
whose  blood  is  thicker.  It  is  a  pity  that  Bukatski  is  not 
living;  this  would  give  him  amusement." 

"But  is  Mashko  in  St.  Petersburg  all  this  time?"  asked 
Bigiel. 

"  He  returns  to-day ;  for  that  reason  she  could  not  stay 
for  the  evening,"  answered  Pan  Stanislav;  after  a  while 
he  added,  "I  had  in  my  time  a  prejudice  against  her;  but 
I  have  convinced  myself  that  she  is  not  a  bad  woman,  and, 
besides,  is  poor." 

"How  poor?  Mashko  hasn't  lost  the  case  yet,"  said 
Pani  Bigiel. 

"But  he  is  always  from  home.  Pani' Mashko's  mother 
is  in  an  optical  hospital  in  Vienna,  and  will  lose  her 
eyes,  perhaps.  Pani  Mashko  is  alone  whole  days,  like  a 
hermitess.  I  say  that  I  had  a  prejudice  against  her,  but 
now  I  am  sorry  for  her." 

"  It  is  true,"  said  Marynia,  "that  since  marriage  she  has 
become  far  more  sympathetic." 

"  Yes,"  answered  Pan  Stanislav ;  "  and  besides  she  has 
lost  no  charm.  Red  eyes  injured  her  formerly ;  but  now 
the  redness  has  vanished,  and  she  is  as  maiden-like  as 
ever." 

"  But  it  is  unknown  whether  Mashko  is  equally  pleased 
with  that,"  remarked  Bigiel. 

Marynia  was  anxious  to  tell  those  present  the  news  about 
Pan  Ignas ;  but  since  he  was  not  betrothed  yet  oiRcially, 
she  did  not  know  that  it  might  be  mentioned.  When^ 
however,  after  tea,  Pani  Bigiel  began  to  inquire  of  him 
how  the  matter  stood,  he  himself  said  that  it  was  as  good 
as  finished,  and  Marynia  put  in  her  word  announcing  that 
the  matter  stood  in  this  form,  —  that  they  might  congratu- 
late Pan  Ignas.  All  began  then  to  press  his  hand  with  that 
true  friendship  which  they  had  for  him,  and  genuine  glad- 
ness possessed  all.  Bigiel,  from  delight,  kissed  Pani 
Bigiel ;  Pan  Stanislav  commanded  to  bring  glasses  and  a 
bottle  of  champagne,  to  drink  the  health  of  the  "  most 
splendid  couple  "  in  Warsaw ;  Pani  Bigiel  began  to  joke 
with  Pan  Ignas,  predicting  what  the  housekeeping  of  a 
poet  and  an  artist  woiild  be.  He  laughed ;  but  was  really 
moved  by  this,  that  his  dreams  were  beginning  to  be  real. 

A  little  later,  Pan  Stanislav  punched  him,  and  said,  — 

"  The  happiness  of  God,  but  I  will  give  you  one  advice : 
what  you  have  in  poetry,  put   into  business,   into  work; 


CHILDREN   OF  THE   SOIL.  425 

be  a  realist  in  life,  and  remember  that  marriage  is  no 
romance." 

But  he  did  not  finish,  for  Marynia  put  her  hand  suddenly- 
over  his  mouth,  and  said,  laughing,  "  Silence,  thou  wise 
head ! " 

And  then  to  Pan  Ignas,  ''  Don't  listen  to  this  grave  pate : 
make  no  theories  beforehand  for  yourself ;  only  love." 

''  True,  Pani,  true,"  answered  Pan  Ignas. 

"  In  that  case,  buy  a  harp  for  yourself,"  added  Pan  Stan- 
islav,  jeeringly. 

At  mention  of  the  harp,  Bigiel  seized  his  violoncello,  say- 
ing that  they  ought  to  end  such  an  evening  with  music. 
Marynia  sat  at  the  piano,  and  they  began  one  of  Handel's 
serenades.  Pan  Ignas  had  the  impression  that  the  soul  was 
going  out  of  him.  He  took  those  mild  tones  into  himself, 
and  was  flying  amid  the  night,  lulling  Lineta  to  sleep  with 
them.  Late  in  the  evening,  he  came  out,  as  if  strengthened 
with  the  sight  of  those  worthy  people. 


426  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 


CHAPTER  XLVI. 

Marynia  had  such  peace  "  as  God  gave,"  but  really 
deep.  A  great  aid  to  finding  it  was  that  voice  from  beyond 
the  grave,  —  the  little  book,  yellowed  by  years,  in  which 
she  read  "  that  a  woman  should  not  marry  to  be  happy,  but 
to  fulfil  the  duties  which  God  imposes  on  her  then." 
Marynia,  who  looked  frequently  into  this  little  book,  had 
read  more  than  once  those  lines  before  that ;  but  real  mean- 
ing they  had  taken  on  for  her  only  of  late,  in  that  spiritual 
process  through  which  she  had  passed  after  her  return 
from  Italy.  It  ended  in  this  way,  that  she  was  not  only 
reconciled  with  fate,  but  at  present  she  did  not  admit 
even  the  thought  that  she  was  unhappy.  She  repeated  to 
jjerself  that  it  was  a  happiness  different,  it  is  true,  from 
what  she  had  imagined,  but  none  the  less  real.  It  is  cer- 
tain that,  if  God  had  given  her  the  power  of  arranging 
people's  hearts,  she  would  have  wished  "  Stas  "  to  show  her, 
not  more  honor,  but  more  of  that  tenderness  of  which  he 
was  capable,  and  which  he  had  shown  in  her  time  to  Litka ; 
that  his  feeling  for  her  might  be  less  sober,  and  have  in  it 
a  certain  kernel  of  poetry  which  her  own  love  had.  But, 
on  the  other  hand,  she  cherished  always  somewhere,  in 
some  little  corner  of  her  heart, —  first,  the  hope  that  that 
might  come  to  pass  ;  and,  second,  she  tliought  in  her  soul 
that,  even  if  it  did  not,  then,  as  matters  stood,  she  ought  to 
thank  God  for  having  given  her  a  brave  and  honest  man, 
whom  she  coiild  not  only  love,  but  esteem.  IMore  than  once 
she  stopped  to  compare  him  with  others,  and  could  not  find 
any  one  to  sustain  the  comparison.  Bigiel  was  worthy,  but 
he  had  not  that  dash ;  Osnovski,  with  all  his  goodness, 
lacked  practical  knowledge  of  life  and  work ;  Mashko  was 
a  person  a  hundred  times  lower  in  everj'thing  ;  Pan  Ignas 
seemed  to  her  rather  a  genial  child  than  a  man,  —  in  a  word, 
frona  every  comparison  "  Stas  "  came  out  always  victori- 
ous, and  the  one  result  was  that  she  felt  for  him  an  increasing 
trust  as  to  vital  questions,  and  loved  him  more  and  more.  At 
the  same  time,  while  denying  herself,  subjecting  to  him  her 
own  /,  bringing  in  sacrifice  her  imaginings  and  her  selfish- 
ness, she  had  the  feeling  that  she  was  developing  more  and 


CHILDREN   OF   THE   SOIL.  427 

more  in  a  spiritual  sense,  that  she  was  perfecting  herself, 
that  she  was  becomiug  better,  that  she  was  not  descending 
to  any  level,  but  rising  to  some  heiglit,  whence  the  soul 
would  be  nearer  to  God ;  and  all  at  once  she  saw  that  in 
such  a  feeling  lies  the  whole  world  of  happiness.  Pan 
Stanislav  at  that  time  was  away  from  home  often,  there- 
fore she  was  alone  frequently  ;  and,  more  than  once,  she 
reasoned  with  the  great  simplicity  of  an  honest  woman: 
"People  should  strive  to  be  better  and  better;  but  if  I  am 
not  worse  than  I  was,  it  is  well.  Were  it  otherwise,  maybe 
I  should  be  spoiled."  She  did  not  come,  however,  to  the 
thought  that  there  was  more  wisdom  in  this  than  in  all  the 
ideas  and  talks  of  Pani  Osnovski.  It  seemed  to  her  natu- 
ral, too,  that  she  had  less  charm  at  that  time  for  "  Stas  " 
than  formerly.  Looking  into  her  mirror,  she  said  to  her- 
self :  "  Well,  the  eyes  do  not  change,  but  what  a  figure  ! 
what  a  face!  If  I  were  Stas,  I  would  run  out  of  the 
house ! "  And  she  thought  an  untruth,  for  she  would  not 
have  run  out ;  but  it  seemed  to  her  that  in  this  way  she  was 
increasing  "  Stas's  "  merit.  She  got  comfort,  too,  from  Pani 
Bigiel,  who  said  that  afterward  she  would  be  fairer  than 
ever,  "  just  like  some  young  girl."  And,  at  times,  joy  and 
thankfulness  rose  in  her  heart,  because  all  is  so  wisely 
arranged;  and  if,  at  first,  one  is  a  little  uglier  and  must 
suffer  a  little,  not  only  does  all  return,  but,  as  a  reward, 
there  is  a  belov^ed  "bobo"  which  attaches  one  to  life,  and 
creates  a  new  bond  between  wife  and  husband.  In  this 
way,  she  had  times,  not  only  of  peace,  but  simply  of  joy- 
fulness,  and  sometimes  she  said  to  Pani  Bigiel,  — 

"  Dost  thou  know  what  I  think?  —  it  is  possible  to  be 
happy  always,  only  we  must  fear  God." 

"What  has  one  to  do  with  the  other?"  asked  Pani 
Bigiel,  who  from  her  husband  had  gained  a  love  of  clear 
thinking. 

"  This,"  answered  Marynia,  —  "that  we  should  rest  with 
what  He  gives  us,  and  not  importune  Him,  because  He 
has  n't  given  that  which  seems  to  us  better." 

Then  she  added  joyously,  "  We  must  n't  tease  for  happi- 
ness."    And  both  began  to  laugh. 

Frequently,  too,  in  the  tenderness  almost  exaggerated 
which  Pan  Stanislav  showed  his  wife,  it  was  clearly 
evident  that  he  was  thinking  chiefly  of  the  child;  but 
Marynia  did  not  take  that  ill  of  him  now.  In  truth,  she 
never  had ;  but  at  present  she  was  willing  to  count  it  a 


428  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

merit  in  him,  for  she  thought  it  the  duty  of  both  to  care 
above  all  for  the  child,  as  for  their  future  mutual  love. 
Yielding  up  daily  in  this  way  something  of  her  own 
care  for  self,  she  gained  more  and  more  peace,  more  and 
more  calmness ;  these  feelings  were  reflected  in  her  eyes, 
which  were  more  beautiful  than  ever.  Her  main  anxiety 
now  was  that  it  should  be  a  daughter.  She  was  ready  even 
in  this  to  yield  to  the  will  of  God,  but  she  feared  "  Stas  "  a 
little  ;  and  one  day  she  asked  him  in  jest,  — 

''  Stas,  and  thou  wilt  not  kill  me  if  it  is  a  son  ?  " 
"No,"  answered  he, laughing  and  kissing  her  hand;  "  but 
I  should  prefer  a  daughter." 

"  But  I  have  heard  from  Pani  Bigiel  that  men  always 
prefer  sons." 

"  But  I  am  such  a  man  that  I  prefer  a  daughter." 
Not  always,  however,  were  her  thoughts  so  joyous.  At 
times  it  came  to  her  head  that  she  might  die,  for  she  knew 
that  death  happens  in  such  cases ;  and  she  prayed  earnestly 
that  it  should  not  happen,  for  first  she  feared  it,  second,  she 
would  be  sorry  to  go  away,  even  to  heaven,  when  she  had 
such  a  prospect  of  loving,  and  finally  she  imagined  to  her- 
self that  "  Stas  "  would  mourn  for  her  immensely.  And  at 
that  thought  she  grew  as  tender  over  him  as  if  he  had  been 
at  that  moment  a  man  more  deserving  of  pity  than  ali. 
other  unfortunates  living.  Never  had  she  spoken  to  him 
of  this,  though  it  seemed  to  her  that  sometimes  he  had 
feared  it. 

But  she  deceived  herself  thoroughly.  The  doctor,  who 
came  to  Marynia  weekly,  assured  both  her  and  her  husband 
after  each  visit  that  all  was  and  would  be  most  regular ; 
hence  Pan  Stanislav  had  no  fear  for  his  wife's  future. 
The  cause  of  his  alarm  was  something  quite  different, 
which  happily  for  herself  Marynia  had  not  suspected,  and 
which  Pan  Stanislav  himself  had  not  dared  even  to  name 
in  his  own  mind.  For  some  time  something  had  begun  to 
go  wrong  in  his  life  calculations,  of  which  he  had  been  so 
proud,  and  which  had  given  him  such  internal  security.  A 
little  while  before  he  had  considered  that  his  theories  of 
life  were  like  a  house  built  of  firm  timbers,  resting  on  solid 
foundations.  In  his  soul  he  was  proud  of  that  house,  and 
in  secret  exalted  himself  above  those  who  had  not  the 
skill  to  build  anything  like  it.  Speaking  briefly,  he  thought 
himself  a  better  life  architect  than  others.  He  judged  that 
the  labor  was  finished  from  foundation  to  summit,  only  go 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  429 

in,  live,  and  rest  there.  He  forgot  that  a  human  soul, 
like  a  bird  when  it  has  soared  to  a  given  height,  not  only 
is  not  free  to  rest,  but  must  work  its  wings  hard  to  support 
itself,  otherwise  the  very  first  temptation  will  bring  it  to 
the  earth  again. 

The  worse  and  vainer  the  temptation,  the  more  was  he 
enraged  at  himself  because  he  gave  way  to  it.  A  mean 
desire,  a  low  object,  —  he  had  not  even  anything  to  explain 
to  himself ;  and  still  the  walls  of  his  house  had  begun  to 
crack.  Pan  Stanislav  was  a  religious  man  now,  and  that  from 
conviction ;  he  was  too  sincere  with  himself  to  enter  into 
a  compromise  with  his  own  principles,  and  say  to  himself 
that  such  things  happen  even  to  the  firmest  of  believers. 
Ko  !  He  was  by  nature  a  man  rather  unsparing,  and  logic 
said  to  him  "  either,  or ;  "  hence  he  felt  that  speaking  thus 
it  spoke  justly.  Hitherto  he  had  not  given  way  to  temp- 
tation ;  but  still  he  was  angry  because  he  was  tempted,  for 
temptation  brought  him  to  doubt  his  own  character.  Con- 
sidering himself  as  better  than  others,  he  stood  suddenly 
in  face  of  the  question,  was  he  not  worse  than  others,  for 
not  only  had  temptation  attacked  him,  but  he  felt  that  in  a 
given  case  he  might  yield  to  it. 

More  than  once,  while  looking  at  Pani  Osnovski,  he  re- 
peated to  himself  the  opinion  of  Confucius :  "  An  ordinary 
woman  has  as  much  reason  as  a  hen  ;  an  extraordinary  woman 
as  much  as  two  hens."  In  view"  of  Pani  Mashko,  it  occurred 
to  him  that  there  are  women  with  reference  to  whom  this 
Chinese  truth,  which  makes  one  indignant,  is  flattery.  Had 
it  been  at  least  possible  to  say  of  Pani  Mashko  that  she 
was  honestly  stupid,  it  would  become  a  certain  individual 
trait  of  hers  ;  but  she  Avas  not.  A  few,  or  a  few  tens  of 
formulas  had  made  of  her  a  polite  nonentity.  Just  as  two 
or  three  hundred  phrases  make  up  the  whole  language  of  the 
inhabitants  of  Xew  Guinea,  and  satisfy  all  their  wants,  so 
those  formulas  satified  Pani  Mashko  as  to  social  relations, 
thoughts,  and  life.  For  that  matter,  she  was  as  completely 
passive  within  that  shade  of  automatic  dignity  which  nar- 
rowness of  mind  produces,  and  a  blind  faith  that  if  proper 
formalities  are  observed,  there  can  be  no  error.  Pan  Stan- 
islav knew  her  as  such,  and  as  such  ridiculed  her  more  than 
once  while  she  was  unmarried.  He  called  her  a  puppet,  a 
manikin  ;  he  felt  enraged  at  her  because  of  that  doctor  who 
had  perished  for  her  in  some  place  where  pepper  grdws ; 
he  disregarded  her  and  did  not  like  her.    But  even  then,  as 


430  CHILDREN  OF  TIIE  SOIL. 

often  as  he  saw  her,  whether  at  the  Bigiels',  or  when  oi\ 
Mashko's  business  he  went  to  Pani  Kraslavski,  he  always 
returned  under  the  physical  impression  which  she  made  on 
him,  of  which  he  gave  himself  an  account.  That  quenched 
face,  that  passive,  vegetable  calm  of  expression,  that  cold- 
ness of  bearing,  that  frequent  reddening  of  the  eyes,  that 
slender  form,  had  in  them  something  which  affected  him 
unusually.  He  explained  that  to  himself  then  by  some  law 
of  natural  selection ;  and  when  he  had  outlined  the  thing 
technically,  he  stopped  there,  for  the  impression  which 
Maryuia  had  made  on  him  was  still  greater,  hence  he  had 
followed  it.  At  present,  however,  Maryuia  was  his,  and  he 
had  grown  used  to  her  beauty,  which,  moreover,  had  disap- 
peared for  a  period.  It  so  happened  that  because  of 
Mashko's  frequent  journeys,  he  saw  Pani  Mashko  almost 
daily,  in  consequence  of  which  former  impressions  not  only 
revived,  but,  in  the  conditions  in  which  Pan  Stanislav  found 
himself  with  reference  to  Marynia,  they  revived  with  unex- 
pected vigor.  And  it  happened  finally  that  he  who  would 
not  consent  to  be  in  leading  strings  for  the  ten  times  more 
beautiful  and  charming  Pani  Osnovski ;  he,  who  had  resisted 
her  Roman  fantasies ;  he,  who  had  looked  on  himself  as  a 
man  of  principles,  stronger  in  character  and  firmer  in  mind 
than  most  people, — saw  now  that  if  Pani  Mashko  wished 
to  push  that  edifice  with  her  foot,  all  its  bindings  might 
be  loosened,  and  the  ceiling  tumble  on  his  head.  Of  a 
certainty,  he  would  not  cease  to  love  his  wife,  for  he  was 
sincerely  and  profoundly  attached  to  her ;  but  he  felt  that 
he  might  be  in  a  condition  to  betray  her, —  and  then  not 
only  her,  but  himself,  his  principles,  his  conceptions  of 
what  an  honest  and  a  moral  man  should  be.  With  a  certain 
terror  as  well  as  anger,  he  found  in  himself  not  merely  the 
human  beast,  but  a  weak  beast.  He  was  alarmed  by  this, 
he  rebelled  against  this  weakness ;  but  still  he  could  not 
overcome  it.  It  was  a  simple  thing  in  view  of  this,  not  to 
see  Pani  Mashko,  or  to  see  her  as  seldom  as  possible ;  mean- 
while he  was  finding  reasons  to  see  her  the  oftenest  possible. 
At  first  he  wanted  to  lull  himself  with  these  reasons ;  but, 
in  view  of  his  innate  consistency,  that  was  impossible, 
and  it  ended  with  this,  that  he  merely  invented  them. 
Straightway,  he  deceived  with  them  his  wife,  and  whomever 
he  wished.  When  in  company  with  Pani  Mashko,  he  could 
not  refrain  from  looking  at  her,  from  embracing  with  his 
glance  her  face  and  whole  person.     A  sickly  curiosity  seized 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  431 

liiiii  as  to  how  she  would  bear  herself  in  case  he  appeared  be- 
fore her  with  what  was  happening  within  him.  What  would 
she  say  then  ?  And  he  took  pleasure  in  spite  of  himself  in 
supposing  that  she  would  bear  herself  with  perfect  passive- 
ness.  He  despised  her  beforehand  for  this ;  but  she  became 
the  more  desired  by  him  thereby.  In  himself  he  discovered 
whole  mountains  of  depravity,  which  he  referred  to  long 
stay  in  foreign  countries ;  and,  having  considered  himself  up 
to  that  time  a  fresh  and  healthy  nature,  he  began  to  grow 
alarmed.  Had  he  not  been  deceived  in  himself,  and  was  not 
that  wonderful  impression  produced  on  him  by  a  being  so 
little  attractive  the  appearance  of  some  neurosis  consum- 
ing him  without  his  knowledge  ?  It  had  not  occurred  to 
him  that  there  might  exist  even  such  conditions  in  which 
the  soul  of  a  man  simply  despises  a  woman,  but  the  human 
beast  longs  for  her. 

In  her,  instinct  had  taken  the  place  of  mental  keenness ; 
besides,  she  was  not  so  naive  as  not  to  know  what  his  glance 
meant  as  it  slipped  over  her  form,  or  what  his  eyes  said 
when  talking,  especially  when  they  were  alone,  and  he  looked 
into  her  face  with  a  certain  persistence.  At  first  she  felt  a 
kind  of  satisfaction  for  her  self-love,  which  it  is  difficult  for 
even  an  honest  woman  to  resist  when  she  sees  the  impres- 
sion produced  by  her ;  when  she  feels  herself  distinguished, 
desired  beyond  others,  —  in  a  word,  victorious.  Besides,  she 
was  ready  not  to  recognize  and  not  to  see  the  danger,  just 
as  a  partridge  does  not  wish  to  see  it,  when  it  hides  its  head 
in  the  snow,  on  feeling  the  hawk  circling  above  it.  For  Pani 
Mashko  appearances  were  this  snow  ;  and  Pan  Stanislav 
felt  that.  He  knew  also  from  his  experience  as  a  single 
man  that  there  are  women  for  whom  it  is  a  question  above 
all  of  preserving  certain,  frequently  even  strange,  appear- 
ances. He  remembered  some  who  burst  out  in  indignation 
when  he  said  to  them  in  Polish  that  which  they  heard  in 
French  with  a  smile ;  he  had  met  even  those  who  were  un- 
approachably firm  at  home  and  in  the  city,  and  so  free  in 
summer  resulences,  at  watering,  or  bathing  places,  and 
others  who  endured  an  attempt,  but  could  not  endure  words, 
and  others  for  whom  the  decisive  thing  was  light  or  dark- 
ness. In  all  places  where  virtue  did  not  come  from  the 
soul,  and  from  principles  ingrafted  like  vaccination  into  the 
blood,  resistance  or  fall  depended  on  accident  or  surround- 
ings, or  external,  frequentlv  favoring  circumstances,  per- 
sonal ideas  of  polite  appearances.     He  judged  that  it  might 


432  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

be  thus  with  Paul  Mashko ;  and  if  hitherto  he  had  not 
entered  the  road  of  testing  and  trying,  it  was  simply  because 
he  was  battling  with  himself,  because  he  did  not  wish  to 
give  way,  and,  despising  her  in  the  bottom  of  his  soul,  he 
wished  to  escape  the  position  of  despising  himself.  Attach- 
ment to  Marynia  restrained  him  too,  and  sympathy,  as  it 
were,  mingled  with  respect  for  her  condition  and  gratitude 
to  her,  and  the  hope  of  fatherhood,  which  moved  him,  and 
a  remembrance  of  the  shortness  of  the  time  which  they  had 
lived  together,  and  honesty,  and  a  religious  feeling.  These 
were  chains,  as  it  were,  at  which  the  human  beast  was 
still  tugging. 

They  did  not  hold,  however,  with  equal  strength  always. 
Once,  and,  namely,  that  evening  on  which  Pan  Ignas  hatl 
met  them,  he  had  almost  betrayed  himself.  At  the  thought 
that  Mashko  was  returning  and  that  Pani  ]\[ashko  was 
hastening  home,  therefore,  a  low,  purely  physical  jealousy 
seized  him  ;  and  he  said  with  a  certain  anger,  repressed,  but 
visible,  — 

"  True !  I  understand  your  haste !  Ulysses  is  coming,  and 
Penelope  must  be  at  home,  but  —  " 

Here  he  felt  a  desire  to  curse. 

"  But  what  ?  "  inquired  Pani  Mashko. 

Pan  Stanislav  answered  without  any  hesitation,  — 

"  Just  to-day  I  wished  to  detain  you  longer." 

"  It  is  not  proper,"  answered  she  briefly,  with  a  voice  as 
thin  as  though  strained  through  a  sieve. 

And  in  that,  "  It  is  not  proper,"  was  her  whole  soul. 

He  returned,  cursing  earnestly  her  and  himself.  When 
he  reached  home  he  found  in  the  clear,  peaceful  room 
Marynia  and  Pan  Ignas,  she  proving  to  the  poet  that  when 
they  marry,  people  should  not  look  for  some  imagined 
happiness,  but  the  duties  which  God  imposes  at  that  time. 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  433 


CHAPTER  XLVIL 

"What  is  Pani  Osnovski  to  me,  and  what  are  all  her 
affairs  to  me  ?"  said  Pan  Ignas  to  himself  next  morning  on 
the  way  to  Pani  Bronich's :  "  I  am  not  going  to  marry  her, 
but  viij  0X011  one.  Why  did  I  so  tear  and  torment  myself 
yesterday  ?  " 

And  when  he  had  said  this  "  to  his  lofty  soul,"  he  began 
to  think  only  of  what  he  would  say  to  Pani  Bronich;  for  in 
spite  of  Osnovski's  assurances,  in  spite  of  every  hope  that 
that  conversation  would  be  merely  a  certain  form  for  obser- 
vance, in  spite  of  his  confidence  in  Lineta's  heart  and  the 
kindness  of  Pani  Bronich,  the  "  lofty  soul "  was  in  fear. 

He  found  aunt  and  niece  together ;  and,  emboldened  by 
yesterday,  he  pressed  to  his  lips  the  hand  of  the  young 
lady,  who  said,  blushing  slightly,  — 

"  But  I  will  run  away." 

"  Kitechka,  stop !  "  said  Pani  Bronich. 

"  No,"  answered  she  ;  "  I  fear  this  gentleman,  and  I  fear 
aunt." 

Thus  speaking,  she  began  to  rub  her  golden  head,  like 
a  petted  kitten,  against  the  shoulder  of  Pani  Bronich, 
saying,  — 

"  Do  not  wrong  him  aunt ;  do  not  wrong  him." 

And  looking  at  him,  she  ran  away  really.  Pan  Ignas, 
from  emotion  and  excess  of  love,  was  as  pale  as  linen  ;  Pani 
Bronich  had  tears  on  her  lids.  And,  seeing  that  his  throat 
was  so  pressed  that  it  would  have  been  easier  for  him  to 
cry  than  to  talk,  she  said,  — 

"  I  know  why  you  have  come.  I  have  noticed  this  long 
time  what  was  passing  between  you,  my  children." 

Pan  Ignas  seized  her  hands,  and  began  to  press  them  to 
his  lips  one  after  the  other  ;  she  on  her  part  continued,  — 

"  Oh,  I  myself  have  felt  too  much  in  life  not  to  know 
real  feelings  ;  I  will  say  more  :  it  is  my  specialty.  Women 
live  only  by  the  heart,  and  they  know  how  to  divine  hearts. 
I  know  that  you  love  Xitechka  truly;  and  I  am  certain 
that  if  she  did  not  love  you,  or  if  I  should  refuse  her  to 
you,  you  would  not  survive.     Is  it  not  true  ?" 

28 


434  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

Here  she  gazed  at  him  with  an  inquiring  glance,  and  he 
said  with  effort,  — 

"  Beyond  doubt  !  I  know  not  what  would  happen  to 
me." 

"  I  guessed  that  at  once,"  answered  she,  with  radiant  face. 
"Ah,  my  dear  friend,  a  look  is  enough  for  me  ;  but  I  shall 
not  be  an  evil  spirit  as  your  genius.  No,  I  shall  not,  I  can- 
not be  that.  Whom  shall  I  find  for  Nitechka  ?  Where  a 
man  worthy  of  her  ?  Who  would  have  in  him  all  that  she 
loves  and  esteems  chiefly  ?  I  cannot  give  her  to  Kopovski, 
and  I  will  not.  You  perhaps  do  not  know  Nitechka  as  I 
do ;  but  I  cannot  and  will  not  give  her." 

In  spite  of  all  his  emotion,  that  euergy  with  which  Pani 
Bronich  refused  "Nitechka's"  hand  to  Kopovski  aston- 
ished Pan  Ignas,  just  as  if  he  had  declared  for  Kopovski, 
not  for  himself ;  and  the  aunt  continued,  moved,  but  evi- 
dently enjoying  her  own  words  and  delighted  with  the 
position,  — 

"  No !  there  can  be  no  talk  :of  Kopovski.  You  alone  can 
make  Nitechka  happy.  You  alone  can  give  her  what  she 
needs.  I  knew  yesterday  that  you  would  talk  with  me  to- 
day. I  did  not  close  an  eye  the  whole  night.  Do  not 
wonder  at  that.  Here  it  is  a  question  of  Nitechka,  and  I 
was  hesitating  yet ;  therefore  fear  seized  me  in  view  of  to- 
day's conversation,  for  I  knew  in  advance  that  I  would  not 
.resist  you,  that  you  would  bear  me  away  with  your  feeling 
and  your  eloquence,  as  yesterday  you  bore  away  Nitechka." 

Pan  Ignas,  who  neither  yesterday  nor  to-day  was  able  to 
buzz  out  one  word,  could  not  explain  somehow  to  himself 
in  what  specially  lay  the  power  of  his  eloquence,  or  when 
he  had  time  to  exhibit  it ;  but  Pani  Bronich  did  not 
permit  him  to  hesitate  longer  on  this  question. 

"  And  do  you  know  what  I  did  ?  This  is  what  I  do  always 
in  life's  most  serious  moments.  Speaking  yesterday  with 
Nitechka,  I  went  early  this  morning  to  the  grave  of  my 
husband.  He  is  lying  here  in  Warsaw  —  I  know  not 
whether  I  have  told  you  that  he  was  the  last  descendant  of 
Rurik  —  Ah,  yes,  I  have  !  Oh,  dear  friend,  what  a  refuge 
for  me  that  grave  is ;  and  how  many  good  inspirations  I 
have  brought  from  it !  Whether  it  was  a  question  of  the 
education  of  Nitechka,  or  of  some  journej^,  or  of  investing 
capital  which  my  husband  left  me,  or  of  a  loan  which 
some  one  of  my  relatives  or  acquaintances  wished  to  make, 
I  went  there  directly  at  all  times.     And  will  you  believe 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  435 

me  ?  More  than  once  a  mortgage  is  offered :  it  seems  a 
good  one  ;  the  business  is  perfect ;  more  than  once  my  heart 
even  commands  me  to  give  or  to  lend,  —  but  my  husband 
there  in  the  depth  of  his  eternal  rest,  answers :  '  Do  not 
give,'  and  I  give  not.  And  never  has  evil  resulted.  Oh, 
my  dear,  you  who  feel  and  understand  everything,  you  will 
understand  how  to-day  I  prayed,  how  I  asked  with  all 
the  powers  of  my  soul,  'Give  Nitechka,  or  not  eive 
Nitechka?'"  ^ 

Here  she  seized  Pan  Ignas's  temples  with  her  hands,  and 
said  through  her  tears,  — 

"  But  my  Teodor  answered,  '  Give  : '  therefore  I  give  her 
to  thee,  and  my  blessing  besides." 

Tears  quenched  indeed  further  conversation  in  Pani 
Bronich.  Pan  Ignas  knelt  before  her ;  "  Nitechka,"  who 
came  in,  as  if  at  a  fixed  moment,  dropped  on  her  knees  at 
his  side;  Pani  Bronich  stretched  her  hands  and  said 
sobbing,  — 

*'  She  is  thine,  thine !  I  give  her  to  thee ;  I  and  Teodor 
give  her." 

Then  the  three  rose.  Aunt  Bronich  covered  her  eyes  with 
her  handkerchief,  and  remained  some  time  without  motion ; 
gradually,  however,  she  slipped  away  the  handkerchief, 
looking  from  one  side  at  the  two  young  people.  Suddenly 
she  laughed,  and,  threatening  with  her  finger,  said,  — 

"Oi!  I  know  what  you  would  like  now, — you  would 
like  to  be  alone.  Surely  you  have  something  to  say  to  each 
other.     Is  it  not  true  ?  " 

And  she  went  out.  Pan  Ignas  took  Lineta's  hands  that 
moment,  and  looked  into  her  eyes  with  intoxication. 

They  sat  down ;  and  she,  leaving  her  hands  in  his,  rested 
her  temple  on  his  shoulder.  It  was  like  a  song  without 
words.  Pan  Ignas  inclined  his  head  toward  her  bright  face. 
Lineta  closed  her  eyes  ;  but  he  was  too  young  and  too  timid, 
he  respected  too  much  and  he  loved,  hence  he  did  not  ven- 
ture yet  to  touch  her  lips  with  his.  He  only  kissed  her 
golden  hair,  and  even  that  caused  the  room  in  which  they 
were  sitting  to  spin  with  him ;  the  world  began  to  whirl  round. 
Then  all  vanished  from  his  eyes ;  he  lost  memory  of  where 
he  was,  and  what  was  happening ;  he  heard  only  the  beating 
of  his  own  heart;  he  felt  the  odor  of  the  silken  hair,  which 
brushed  his  lips,  and  it  seemed  to  him  that  in  that  was  the 
universe. 

But  that  was  only  a  dream  from  which  he  had  to  wake. 


436  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL 

After  a  certain  time  the  aunt  began  to  open  the  door  gently, 
as  if  wishing  to  lose  the  least  possible  of  the  romance,  in 
which,  with  Teodor's  aid,  she  was  playing  the  role  of 
guardian  spirit ;  in  the  adjoining  chamber  were  heard  the 
voices  of  the  Osnovskis ;  and  a  moment  later  Lineta  found 
herself  in  the  arms  of  her  aunt,  from  which  she  passed  into 
the  embraces  of  Pani  Aneta.  Osnovski,  pressing  Ignas's 
hands  with  all  his  power,  said,  — 

"  But  what  a  joy  in  the  house,  what  a  joy  !  for  we  have 
all  fallen  in  love  with  thee,  —  I,  and  aunt,  and  Anetka,  not 
to  speak  of  this  little  one," 

Then  he  turned  to  his  wife  and  said,  — 

"Knowest,  Anetka,  what  I  wished  Ignas,  even  yesterday  ? 
that  they  should  be  to  each  other  as  we  are."  And,  seizing 
her  hands,  he  began  to  kiss  them  with  vehemence. 

Pan  Ignas,  though  he  knew  not  in  general  what  was  hap- 
pening to  him,  found  still  presence  of  mind  enough  to  look 
into  the  face  of  Pani  Aneta ;  but  she  answered  joyously, 
withdrawing  her  hands  from  her  husband,  — 

"No,  they  will  be  happier;  for  Castelka  is  not  such  a 
giddy  thing  as  I,  and  Pan  Ignas  will  not  kiss  her  hands  so 
stubbornly  before  people.     But,  Yozio,  let  me  go !  " 

"Let  him  only  love  her  as  I  thee,  my  treasure,  my 
child,"  answered  the  radiant  Yozio, 

Pan  Ignas  stayed  at  Pani  Bronich's  till  evening,  and  did 
not  go  to  the  counting-house.  After  lunch  he  drove  out  in 
the  carriage  with  the  aunt  and  Lineta,  for  Pani  Bronich 
wanted  absolutely  to  show  them  to  society.  But  their 
drive  in  the  Alley  was  not  a  success  altogether,  because  of 
a  sudden  hard  shower,  which  scattered  the  carriages.  On 
their  return.  Pan  Osnovski,  good  as  he  ever  was,  made  a 
new  proposition  which  delighted  Pan  Ignas. 

"  Prytulov  will  not  escape  us,"  said  he.  "  We  live  here 
as  if  we  were  half  in  the  country ;  and  since  we  have  re- 
mained till  the  end  of  June,  we  may  stay  a  couple  of  days 
longer.  Let  that  loving  couple  exchange  rings  before  our 
departure,  and  at  the  same  time  let  it  be  free  to  Aneta 
and  me  to  give  them  a  betrothal  party.  Is  it  well,  aunt  ? 
I  see  that  they  have  nothing  against  it,  and  surely  it  will  be 
agreeable  for  Ignas  to  have  at  the  betrothal  his  friends  the 
Polanyetskis  and  the  Bigiels.  It  is  true  that  we  do  not 
visit  the  latter,  but  that  is  nothing  !  We  will  visit  them 
to-morrow,  and  the  affair  will  be  settled.  Is  it  well,  Ignas ; 
is  it  well,  aunt  ? " 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  437 

Igiias  was  evidently  in  the  seventh  heaven;  as  to  aunt, 
she  didn't  know  indeed  what  Teodor's  opinion  woukl  be 
in  this  matter,  and  she  began  to  hesitate.  But  she  might 
inquire  of  Teodor  yet;  and  then  she  remembered  that  he 
had  answered,  "Give,"  with  such  a  great  voice  from  his 
place  of  eternal  rest  that  it  was  impossible  to  doubt  his 
good  wishes,  — hence  she  agreed  at  last  to  everything. 

After  dinner  Kopovski,  the  almost  daily  guest,  came; 
and  it  turned  out  that  he  was  the  only  being  in  the  villa 
to  whom  news  of  the  feelings  and  betrothal  of  the  young 
couple  did  not  cause  delight.  For  a  time  his  face  expressed 
indescribable  astonishment;  at  last  he  said,  — 

"  I  never  should  have  guessed  that  Panna  Lineta  would 
marry  Pan  Ignas." 

Osnovski  pushed  Pan  Ignas  with  his  elbow,  blinked,  and 
whispered,  with  a  very  cunning  mien,  — 

"  Hast  noticed?  I  told  thee  yesterday  that  he  was  mak- 
ing up  to  Castelka." 

Pan  Ignas  left  the  villa  of  the  Osnovskis  late  in  the  even- 
ing. When  he  reached  home  he  did  not  betake  himself  to 
verses,  however,  though  it  seemed  to  him  then  that  he  was 
a  kind  of  harp,  the  strings  of  which  played  of  themselves, 
but  to  the  counting-house,  to  unfinished  correspondence 
and  accounts. 

At  the  counting-house  all  were  so  pleased  with  this  that 
when  the  Bigiels  returned  the  visit  of  the  Osnovskis,  and  _ 
at  the  same  time  made  the  first  visit  to  Pani  Bronich, 
Bigiel  said,  — 

"  The  worth  of  Pan  Zavilovski's  poetry  is  known  to  you 
ladies,  but  perhaps  you  do  not  know  how  conscientious  a 
man  he  is.  I  say  this  because  that  is  a  rare  quality  among 
us.  Since  he  remained  all  day  with  you  here,  and  could 
not  be  at  the  counting-house,  he  asked  to  have  it  opened 
by  the  guard  in  the  night;  he  took  home  the  books  and 
papers  in  his  charge,  and  did  what  pertained  to  him.  It  is 
pleasant  to  think  that  one  has  to  do  with  such  a  man,  for 
such  a  man  may  be  trusted." 

Here,  however,  the  honorable  partner  of  the  house  of 
Bigiel  and  Polanyetski  was  astonished  that  such  high 
praise  from  his  lips  made  so  little  impression,  and  that 
Pani  Bronich,  instead  of  showing  gladness,  replied,  — 

"Ah,  we  hope  that  in  future  Pan  Zavilovski  will  be 
able  to  give  himself  to  labor  more  in  accordance  with  his 
powers  and  position." 


438  CHILDEEN  OF  THE   SOIL. 

In  general,  the  impression  which  both  sides  brought 
away  from  their  acquaintance  showed  that  somehow  they 
were  not  at  home  with  each  other.  Lineta  pleased  the 
Bigiels,  it  is  true;  but  he,  in  going  away,  whispered  to  his 
wife,  "  How  comfortably  they  live  for  themselves  in  this 
place!"  He  had  a  feeling  that  the  spirit  of  that  whole 
villa  was  a  sort  of  unbroken  holiday,  or  idling;  but  he 
was  not  able  at  once  to  express  that  idea,  for  he  had  not 
the  gift  of  ready  utterance. 

But  Pani  Bronich,  after  their  departure,  said  to 
"Nitechka,"  — 

"  Of  course,  of  course !  They  must  be  excellent  people 
—  true,  perfect  people!     I  am  certain  —  yes,  certain  —  " 

And  somehow  she  did  not  finish  her  thought;  but 
"Nitechka"  must  have  understood  her,  however,  for  she 
said, — 

"But  they  are  no  relatives  of  his." 

A  few  days  later  the  relatives,  too,  made  themselves 
heard.  Pan  Ignas,  who,  in  spite  of  the  wishes  of  Pani 
Bigiel,  had  not  gone  yet  with  excuses  to  old  Zavilovski, 
received  the  following  letter  from  him,  — 

Pax  Wildcat  !  —  Thou  hast  scratched  me  undeservedly,  for  I 
had  no  wish  to  offend  thee  ;   and  if  I  say  always  what  I  think,  it  is 

Fermitted  me  because  T  am  old.  They  must  have  told  thee,  too,  that 
never  name,  even  to  her  eyes,  thy  young  lady  otherwise  than  Vene- 
tian half-devil.  But  how  was  I  to  know  that  thou  wert  in  love  and 
about  to  marry  V  I  heard  of  this  only  yesterday,  and  only  now  do  I 
understand  why  thou  didst  spring  out  of  my  sight ;  but  since  I  pre- 
fer water-burners  to  dullards,  and  since  through  this  devil  of  a  gout 
I  cannot  go  myself  to  thee  to  congratulate,  do  thou  come  to  the  old 
man,  who  is  more  thy  well-wisher  than  seems  to  thee. 

After  this  letter  Pan  Ignas  went  that  same  day,  and  was 
received  cordially,  though  with  scolding,  but  so  kindly  that 
this  time  the  old  truth-teller  pleased  him,  and  he  felt  in 
him  really  a  relative. 

"May  God  and  the  Most  Holy  Lady  bless  thee!"  said 
the  old  man.  "I  know  thee  little;  but  I  have  heard  such 
things  of  thee  that  I  should  be  glad  to  hear  the  like  touch- 
ing all  Zavilovskis." 

And  he  pressed  his  hand ;  then,  turning  to  his  daughter, 
he  said,  — 

"He  's  a  genial  rascal,  isn't  he?" 

And  at  parting  he  inquired,  — 


CHILDREN  OF  THE   SOIL.  439 

"But  *  Teodor,'  did  n't  he  trouble  thee  too  much?    Hei?  " 

Pan  Ignas,  who,  as  an  artist,  possessed  in  a  high  degree 
the  sense  of  the  ridiculous,  and  to  whom  in  his  soul  that 
Teodor,  too,  seemed  comical,  laughed  and  answered,  — 

"No.     On  the  contrary,  he  was  on  my  side." 

The  old  man  began  to  shake  his  head. 

"That  is  a  devil  of  an  accommodating  Teodor!  Be  on 
the  lookout  for  him;  he  is  a  rogue." 

Pani  Bronich  had  so  much  genuine  respect  for  the  prop- 
erty and  social  position  of  old  Zavilovski  that  she  visited 
him  next  day,  and  began  almost  to  thank  him  for  his 
cordial  reception  of  his  relative;  but  the  old  man  grew 
angry  unexpectedly. 

"Do  you  think  that  I  am  some  empty  talker?"  asked 
he.  "  You  have  heard  from  me  that  poor  relatives  are  a 
plague;  and  you  think  that  I  take  it  ill  of  them  that  they 
are  poor.  No,  you  do  not  know  me!  But,  know  this, 
when  a  noble  loses  everything,  and  is  poor,  he  becomes 
almost  always  a  sort  of  shabby  fellow.  Such  is  our  char- 
acter, or  rather,  its  weakness.  But  this  Ignas,  as  I  hear 
from  ever}'  side,  is  a  man  of  honor,  though  poor;  and 
therefore  I  love  him." 

"And  I  love  him,"  answered  Pani  Bronich.  "But  you 
will  be  at  the  betrothal?" 

"  C^est  decide.     Even  though  I  had  to  be  carried." 

Pani  Bronich  returned  radiant,  and  at  lunch  could  not 
restrain  herself  from  expressing  suppositions  which  her 
active  fancy  had  begun  to  create. 

"Pan  Zavilovski,"  said  she,  "is  a  man  of  millions,  and 
greatly  attached  to  the  name.  I  should  not  be  astonished 
at  all  were  he  to  make  our  Ignas  his  heir,  if  not  of  the 
chief,  of  a  considerable  part  of  his  property,  or  if  he  were 
to  entail  some  of  his  estates  in  Poznan  on  him.  I  should 
not  be  surprised  at  all." 

No  one  contradicted  her,  for  events  like  that  in  the 
world  had  been  seen;  therefore  after  lunch,  Pani  Bronich, 
embracing  Nitechka,  whispered  in  her  ear,  — 

"Oi,  thou,  thou,  future  heiress ! " 

But  in  the  evening  she  said  to  Pan  Ignas,  — 

"  Be  not  astonished  if  I  so  mix  up  in  everything,  but  I 
am  your  mamma.  So  mamma  is  immensely  curious  to 
know  what  kind  of  ring  you  are  preparing  for  Nitechka? 
It  will  be  something  beautiful,  of  course.  There  will  be 
so  many  people  at  the  betrothal.     And,  besides,  you  have 


440  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

no  idea  what  a  fastidious  girl!  She  is  so  aesthetic  even 
in  trifles;  and  she  has  her  own  taste,  but  what  a  taste  I 
ho,  ho!" 

"I  should  like,"  answered  Pan  Ignas,  "the  stones  to  be 
of  colors  denoting  faith,  hope,  and  love,  for  in  her  is  my 
faith,  my  hope,  and  my  love." 

"A  very  pretty  idea!  have  you  said  this  to  Nitechka? 
Do  you  know  what?  Let  there  be  a  pearl  in  the  middle, 
as  a  sign  that  she  is  a  pearl.  Symbols  are  in  fashion  now. 
Have  I  told  you  that  Fan  Svirski,  when  he  gave  her 
lessons,  called  her  *  La  Perla'?  Ah,  yes,  1  did.  You  do 
not  know  Fan  Svirski?  He,  too —  Yozio  Osnovksi  told 
me  that  he  would  come  to-morrow.  Well,  then,  a  sapphire, 
a  ruby,  an  emerald,  and  in  the  middle  a  pearl?  Oh,  yes! 
Fan  Svirski,  too —     Will  you  be  at  the  funeral?" 

"Whose  funeral?" 

"Fan  Bukatski's.  Yozio  Osnovski  told  me  that  Pan 
Svirski  brought  home  his  body." 

"I  did  not  know  him;  I  have  never  seen  him  in  my 
life." 

"That  is  better;  Nitechka  would  prefer  that  you  had 
not  known  him.  God  in  His  mercy  forgive  him  in  spite 
of  this,  —  that  for  me  he  was  never  a  sympathetic  person, 
and  Nitechka  could  not  endure  him.  But  the  little  one 
will  be  glad  of  the  ring ;  and  when  she  is  glad,  I  am  glad. " 

The  "Little  One"  was  glad  not  only  of  the  ring,  but  of 
life  in  general.  The  role  of  an  affianced  assumed  for  her 
increasing  charm.  Beautiful  nights  came,  very  clear, 
during  which  she  and  Fan  Ignas  sat  together  on  the 
balcony.  Nestling  up  to  each  other,  they  looked  at  the 
quivering  of  light  on  the  leaves,  or  lost  their  gaze  in  the 
silver  dust  of  the  Milky  Way,  and  the  swarms  of  stars. 
From  the  acacia,  growing  under  the  balcony,  there  rose 
a  strong  and  intoxicating  odor,  as  from  a  great  censer. 
Their  powers  seemed  to  go  to  sleep  in  them;  their  souls, 
lulled  by  silence,  turned  into  clear  light,  were  scattered  in 
some  way  amidst  the  depth  of  night,  and  were  melted  into 
unity  with  the  soft  moonlight;  and  so  the  two,  sitting 
hand  in  hand,  half  in  oblivion,  half  in  sleep,  lost  well- 
nigh  the  feeling  of  separate  existence  and  life,  preserving 
a  mere  semi-consciousness  of  some  sort  of  general  bliss  and 
general  "exaltation  of  hearts." 

Fan  Ignas,  when  he  woke  and  returned  to  real  life, 
understood  that  moments  like  those,  in  which  hearts  melt 


CHILDREN   OF  THE   SOIL.  441 

in  that  pantheism  of  love,  and  beat  with  the  same  pulsa- 
tion with  which  everything  quivers  that  loves,  unites,  and 
harmonizes  in  the  universe,  form  the  highest  happiness 
which  love  has  the  power  to  give,  and  so  immeasurable 
that  were  they  to  continue  they  would  of  necessity  destroy 
man's  individuality.  But,  having  the  soul  of  an  idealist, 
he  thought  that  wlien  death  comes  and  frees  the  human 
monad  from  matter,  those  moments  change  into  eternity; 
and  in  that  way  he  imagined  heaven,  in  which  nothing  is 
swallowed  up,  but  everything  simply  united  and  attuned 
in  universal  harmony. 

Lineta,  it  is  true,  could  not  move  with  his  flight;  but 
she  felt  a  certain  turning  of  the  head,  as  it  were,  a  kind 
of  intoxication  from  his  flight,  and  she  felt  herself  happy 
also.  A  woman  even  incapable  of  loving  a  man  is  still 
fond  of  her  love,  or,  at  least,  of  herself,  and  her  role  in  it; 
and,  therefore,  most  frequently  she  crosses  the  threshold 
of  betrothal  with  delight,  feeling  at  the  same  time  grati- 
tude to  the  man  who  opens  before  her  a  new  horizon  of  life. 
Besides,  they  had  talked  love  into  Lineta  so  mightily  that 
at  last  she  believed  in  it. 

And  once,  when  Pan  Ignas  asked  her  if  she  was  sure  of 
herself  and  her  heart,  she  gave  him  both  hands,  as  if  with 
elfusion,  and  said,  — 

"Oh,  trulv;  now  I  know  that  I  love." 

He  pressed  her  slender  fingers  to  his  lips,  to  his  fore- 
head, and  his  eyes,  as  something  sacred;  but  he  was  dis- 
quieted by  her  words,  and  asked,  — 

"  Why  *  now  '  for  the  first  time,  Nitechka?  Or  has 
there  been  a  moment  in  which  thou  hast  thought  that  thou 
couldst  not  love  me?" 

Lineta  raised  her  blue  eyes  and  thought  a  moment;  after 
a  while,  in  the  corners  of  her  mouth  and  in  the  dimples  of 
her  cheeks,  a  smile  began  to  gather. 

"No,"  said  she;  "but  I  am  a  great  coward,  so  1  was 
afraid.  I  understand  that  to  love  you  is  another  thing 
from  loving  the  first  comer."  And  suddenly  she  began  to 
laugh.  "  Oh,  to  love  Pan  Kopovski  would  be  as  simple  as 
hon  jour;  but  you  — maybe  I  cannot  express  it  well,  but 
more  than  once  it  seemed  to  me  that  that  is  like  going  up 
on  some  mountain  or  some  tower.  When  once  at  the  top, 
a  whole  world  is  visible;  but  before  that  one  must  go  ana 
go,  and  toil,  and  I  am  so  lazy."  ^^c^^t 

Pan  Ignas,  who  was  tall  and  bony,  straightened  himself, 

and  said,  — 


442  CHILDKEN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

"When  my  dear,  lazy  one  is  tired,  I'll  take  her  in  my 
arms,  like  a  child,  and  carry  her  even  to  the  highest." 

"And  I  will  shrink  up  and  make  myself  the  smallest," 
answered  Lineta,  closing  her  arms,  and  entering  into  the 
role  of  a  little  child. 

Pan  Iguas  knelt  before  her,  and  began  to  kiss  the  hem  of 
her  dress. 

But  there  were  little  clouds,  too,  on  that  sky;  the  be- 
trothed were  not  the  cause,  however.  It  seemed  to  the 
young  man  at  times  that  his  feelings  were  too  much  observed, 
and  that  Pani  Bronich  and  Pani  Aneta  examined  too  closely 
whether  he  loves,  and  how  he  loves.  He  explained  this,  it 
is  true,  by  the  curiosity  of  women,  and,  in  general,  by  the 
attention  which  love  excites  in  them;  but  he  would  have 
preferred  more  freedom,  and  would  have  preferred  that 
they  would  not  help  him  to  love.  His  feelings  he  con- 
sidered as  sacred,  and  for  him  it  was  painful  to  make  an 
exhibition  of  them  for  uninvited  eyes;  at  the  same  time 
every  movement  and  word  of  his  was  scrutinized.  He 
supposed  also  that  there  must  be  female  sessions,  in  which 
Pani  Bronich  and  Pani  Aneta  gave  their  "approbatur;" 
and  that  thought  angered  him,  for  he  judged  that  neither 
was  in  a  situation  to  understand  his  feelings. 

It  angered  him  also  that  Kopovski  was  invited  to 
Prytulov,  and  that  he  went  there  in  company  with  all;  but 
in  this  case  it  was  for  him  a  question  only  of  Osnovski, 
whom  he  loved  sincerely.  The  pretext  for  the  invitation 
was  the  portrait  not  finished  yet  by  Lineta.  Pan  Ignas 
understood  now  clearly  that  everything  took  place  at  the 
word  of  Pani  Aneta,  who  knew  exactly  how  to  suggest 
her  own  wishes  to  people  as  their  own.  At  times  even  it 
came  to  his  head  to  ask  Lineta  to  abandon  the  portrait;  but 
he  knew  that  he  would  trouble  her,  as  an  artist,  with  that 
request,  and,  besides,  he  feared  lest  people  might  suspect 
him  of  being  jealous  of  a  fop,  like  "Koposio."  ^ 

1  Nickname  for  Kopovski. 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  44J 


CHAPTER  XLVIIL 

SviRSKi  had  come  indeed  from  Italy  with  Bukatski's 
body;  and  he  went  at  once  on  the  following  day  to  Pan 
Stanislav's.  He  met  only  Marynia,  however,  for  her  hus- 
band had  gone  outside  the  city  to  look  at  some  residence 
which  had  been  offered  for  sale.  The  artist  found  Marynia 
so  changed  that  he  recognized  her  with  difficulty;  but  since 
he  had  liked  her  greatly  in  Kome,  he  was  all  the  more 
moved  at  sight  of  her  now.  At  times,  besides,  she  seemed 
to  him  so  touching  and  so  beautiful  in  her  way,  with  the 
aureole  of  future  maternity,  and  besides  she  had  brought 
to  him  so  many  artistic  comparisons,  with  so  many  "types 
of  various  Italian  schools,"  that,  following  his  habit,  he 
began  to  confess  his  enthusiasm  audibly.  She  laughed  at 
his  originality;  but  still  it  gave  her  comfort  in  her  trouble, 
and  she  was  glad  that  he  came, —  tirst,  because  she  felt  a 
sincere  sympathy  with  that  robust  and  wholesome  nature; 
and  second,  she  was  certain  that  he  would  be  enthusiastic 
about  her  in  presence  of  "Stas,"  and  thus  raise  her  in  the 
eyes  of  her  husband. 

He  sat  rather  long,  wishing  to  await  the  return  of  Pan 
Stanislav;  he,  however,  returned  only  late  in  the  evening. 
Meanwhile  there  was  a  visit  from  Pan  Ignas,  who,  needing 
some  one  now  before  whom  to  pour  out  his  overflowing 
happiness,  visited  her  rather  often.  For  a  while  he  and 
Svirski  looked  at  each  other  with  a  certain  caution,  as 
happens  usually  with  men  of  distinction,  who  fear  each 
other's  large  pretensions,  but  who  come  together  the  more 
readily  when  each  sees  that  the  other  is  simple.  So  did  it 
happen  with  these  men.  Marynia,  too,  helped  to  break 
the  ice  by  presenting  Pan  Ignas  as  the  betrothed  of  Panna 
Castelli,  who  was  known  to  Svirski. 

"Indeed,"  said  Svirski,  "I  know  her  perfectly;  she  is 
my  pupil ! " 

Then,  pressing  the  hand  of  Pan  Ignas,  he  said, — 

"Your  betrothed  has  Titian  hair;  she  is  a  little  tall,  but 
you  are  tall,  too.  Such  a  pose  of  head  as  she  has  one 
might  look  for  with  a  candle.    You  must  have  noticed  that 


444  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

there  is  sometliing  swan-like  in  her  movements;  1  have 
even  called  her  'The  Swan.'" 

Pan  Ignas  laughed  as  sincerely  and  joyously  as  a  man 
does  when  people  praise  that  which  he  loves  most  in  life, 
and  said  with  a  shade  of  boastfulness, — 

*"  La  Perla,'  do  you  remember?" 

Svirski  looked  at  him  with  a  certain  surprise. 

*'  There  is  such  a  picture  by  Raphael  in  Madrid ,  in  the 
Museum  del  Prado,"  answered  he.  "Why  do  you  men- 
tion 'La  Perla'?" 

"It  seems  to  me  that  I  heard  of  it  from  those  ladies," 
said  Pan  Ignas,  beaten  from  the  track  somewhat. 

"It  may  be,  for  I  have  a  copy  of  my  own  making  in  my 
studio  Via  Margutta." 

Pan  Ignas  said  in  spirit  that  there  was  need  to  be  more 
guarded  in  repeating  words  from  Pani  Bronich;  and  after 
a  time  he  rose  to  depart,  for  he  was  going  to  his  betrothed 
for  the  evening.  Svirski  soon  followed,  leaving  with 
Marynia  the  address  of  his  Warsaw  studio,  and  begging 
that  Pan  Stanislav  would  meet  him  in  the  matter  of  the 
funeral  as  soon  as  possible. 

In  fact,  Pan  Stanislav  went  to  him  next  morning. 
Svirski's  studio  was  a  kind  of  glass  hall,  attached,  like  the 
nest  of  a  swallow,  to  the  roof  of  one  in  a  number  of  many 
storied  houses,  and  visitors  had  to  reach  him  by  separate 
stairs  winding  like  those  in  a  tower.  But  the  artist  had 
perfect  freedom  there,  and  did  not  close  his  door  evi- 
dently, for  Pan  Stanislav,  in  ascending,  heard  a  dull  sound 
of  iron,  and  a  bass  voice  singing, — 

"  Spring  blows  on  the  world  warmly  ; 
Hawthorns  and  cresses  are  blooming. 
I  am  singing  and  not  sobbing, 
For  I  have  ceased  to  love  thee  too ! 
Hu-ha-hu ! " 

*' Well,"  thought  Pan  Stanislav,  stopping  to  catch  breath, 
"he  has  a  bass,  a  real,  a  true  bass;  but  what  is  he  making 
such  a  noise  with  ?  " 

When  he  had  passed  the  rest  of  the  steps,  however,  and 
then  the  narrow  corridor,  he  understood  the  reason,  for  he 
saw  through  the  open  doors  Svirski,  dressed  to  his  waist  in 
a  single  knitted  shirt,  through  which  was  seen  his  Herculean 
torso ;  and  in  his  hands  were  dumb-bells. 

"Oh,  how  are  you?"  he  called  out,  putting  down  the 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  S(nL.  445 

dumb-bells  in  presence  of  his  guest.  "  I  beg  pardon  that  I 
am  not  dressed,  but  I  was  working  a  little  with  the  dumb- 
bells. Yesterday  I  was  at  your  house,  but  found  only  Pani 
Polanyetski.  Well,  I  brought  our  poor  Bukatski.  Is  the 
little  house  ready  for  him  ?  " 

Pan  Stanislav  pressed  his  hand.  "The  grave  is  ready 
these  two  weeks,  and  the  cross  is  set  up.  We  greet  you 
cordially  in  Warsaw.  My  wife  told  me  that  the  body  is 
in  Povanzki  already." 

"  It  is  now  in  the  crypt  of  the  church.  To-morrow  we  '11 
put  it  away." 

"Well,  to-day  I  will  speak  to  the  priest  and  notify  ac- 
quaintances.    What  is  Professor  Vaskovski  doing?" 

"He  was  to  write  you.  The  heat  drove  him  out  of  Rome; 
and  do  you  know  where  he  went?  Among  the  youngest 
of  the  Aryans.  He  said  that  the  journey  would  occupy 
two  months.  He  wishes  to  convince  himself  as  to  how 
far  they  are  ready  for  his  historical  mission;  he  has 
gone  through  Ancona  to  Fiume,  and  then  farther  and 
farther." 

"The  poor  professor!  I  fear  that  new  disillusions  are 
waiting  for  him." 

"  That  may  be.  People  laugh  at  him.  I  do  not  know 
how  far  the  youngest  of  the  Aryans  are  fitted  to  carry  out 
his  idea;  but  the  idea  itself,  as  God  lives,  is  so  uncommon, 
so  Christian,  and  honest,  that  the  man  had  to  be  a  Vas- 
kovski to  come  to  it.  Permit  me  to  dress.  The  heat  here 
is  almost  as  in  Italy,  and  it  is  better  to  exercise  in  a  single 
shirt." 

"But  best  not  to  exercise  at  all  in  such  heat." 

Here  Pan  Stanislav  looked  at  Svirski's  arms  and  said,  — 

"But  you  might  show  those  for  money." 

"Well;  not  bad  biceps!  But  look  at  these  deltoids. 
That  is  my  vanity.  Bukatski  insisted  that  any  one  might 
say  that  I  paint  like  an  idiot;  but  that  it  was  not  per- 
mitted any  one  to  say  that  I  could  not  raise  a  hundred 
kilograms  with  one  hand,  or  that  I  couldn't  hit  ten  flies 
with  ten  shots." 

"And  such  a  man  will  not  leave  his  biceps  nor  his 
deltoids  to  posterity." 

"Ha!  what's  to  be  done?  I  fear  an  ungrateful  heart; 
as  I  love  God,  I  fear  it  so  much.  Find  me  a  woman  like 
Pani  Polanyetski,  and  I  will  not  hesitate  a  day.^  But 
what  should  I  wish  you,  —  a  son  or  a  daughter? 


446  CHILDREN  OF  THE   SOIL. 

"A  daughter,  a  daughter!  Let  there  be  sons;  but  the 
first  must  be  a  daughter ! " 

"And  when  do  you  expect  her?" 

"In  December,  it  would  seem." 

"God  grant  happily!  The  lady,  however,  is  healthy,  so 
there  is  no  fear." 

"She  has  changed  greatly,  has  she  not?" 

"  She  is  different  from  what  she  was,  but  God  grant  the 
most  beautiful  to  look  so.  What  an  expression!  A  pure 
Botticelli.  I  give  my  word!  Do  you  remember  that  por- 
trait of  his  in  the  Villa  Borghese?  Madonna  col  Bambino 
e  angeli.  There  is  one  head  of  an  angel,  a  little  inclined, 
dressed  in  a  lily,  just  like  the  lady,  the  very  same  expres- 
sion. Yesterday  that  struck  me  so  much  that  1  was  moved 
by  it." 

Then  he  went  behind  the  screen  to  put  on  his  shirt,  and 
from  behind  the  screen  he  said,  — 

"You  ask  why  I  don't  marry.  Do  you  know  why?  I 
remember  sometimes  that  Bukatski  said  the  same  thing.  I 
have  a  sharp  tongue  and  strong  biceps,  but  a  soft  heart;  so 
stupid  is  it  that  if  I  had  such  a  wife  as  you  have,  and 
she  were  in  that  condition,  as  God  lives,  I  shouldn't  know 
whether  to  walk  on  my  knees  before  her,  or  to  beat  the 
floor  with  my  forehead,  or  to  put  her  on  a  table,  in  a  corner 
somewhere,  and  adore  her  with  upraised  hands." 

"  Ai!  "  said  Pan  Stanislav,  laughing,  "that  only  seems  so 
before  marriage;  but  afterward  habituation  itself  destroys 
excess  of  feeling." 

"I  don't  know.     Maybe  I  'm  so  stupid  —  " 

"Do  you  know  what?  When  my  Marynia  is  free,  she 
must  find  for  thee  just  such  a  wife  as  she  herself  is." 

"Agreed!"  thundered  Svirski,  from  behind  the  screen. 
"  Verbum !  I  give  myself  into  her  hands;  and  when  she  says 
'marry,'  I  will  marry  with  closed  eyes." 

And  appearing,  still  without  a  coat,  he  began  to  repeat, 
"Agreed,  agreed!  without  joking.     If  the  lady  wishes." 

"Women  always  like  that,"  answered  Pan  Stanislav. 
"  Have  you  seen,  for  instance,  what  that  Pani  Osnovski  did 
to  marry  our  Pan  Ignas  to  Panna  Castelli?  And  Marynia 
helped  her  as  much  as  I  permitted;  she  kept  her  ears  open. 
For  women  that  is  play." 

"I  made  the  acquaintance  of  that  Pan  Ignas  at  your 
house  yesterday.  He  is  an  immensely  nice  fellow;  simply 
a  genial  head.     It  is  enough  to  look  at  him.     What  a 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  447 

profile,  and  what  a  woman-like  forehead!  and  with  that 
insolent  jaw!  His  shanks  are  too  long,  and  his  knees 
mnst  be  badly  cut,  but  his  head  is  splendid." 

"  He  is  the  Benjamin  of  our  counting-house.  Indeed,  we 
love  him  surpassingly;  his  is  an  honest  nature." 

"Ah!  he  is  your  employee?  But  I  thought  he  was  of 
those  rich  Zavilovskis;  I  have  seen  abroad  often  enough  a 
certain  old  original,  a  rich  man." 

"That  is  a  relative  of  his,"  said  Pan  Stanislav;  "but  our 
Zavilovski  has  n't  a  smashed  copper." 

"Well,"  said  Svirski,  beginning  to  laugh,  "old  Zavilovski 
with  his  daughter,  the  only  heiress  of  millions,  a  splendid 
figure !  In  Florence  and  Rome  half  a  dozen  ruined  Italian 
princes  were  dangling  around  this  young  lady;  but  the  old 
man  declared  that  he  wouldn't  give  his  daughter  to  a 
foreigner,  *for,'  said  he,  'they  are  a  race  of  jesters.'  Im- 
agine to  yourself,  he  considers  us  the  first  race  on  earth,  and 
among  us,  of  course,  the  Zavilovskis;  and  once  he  showed 
that  in  this  way:  'Let  them  say  what  they  like,'  said 
he;  'I  have  travelled  enough  through  the  world,  and  how 
many  Germans,  Italians,  Englishmen,  and  Frenchmen 
have  cleaned  boots  for  me?  but  I,'  said  he,  'have  never 
cleaned  boots  for  any  man,  and  I  will  not. '  " 

"Good!  "  answered  Pan  Stanislav,  laughing;  "he  thinks 
boot-cleaning  not  a  question  of  position  in  the  world,  but  of 
nationality." 

"  Yes,  it  seems  to  him  that  the  Lord  God  created  other 
*  nations  '  exclusively  so  that  a  nobleman  from  Kutno  may 
have  some  one  to  clean  his  boots  whenever  he  chooses  to 
go  abroad.  But  does  n't  he  turn  up  his  nose  at  the  mar- 
riage of  the  young  man?  for  I  know  that  he  thinks  the 
Broniches  of  small  account." 

"Maybe  he  turns  up  his  nose;  but  he  has  become 
acquainted  with  our  Pan  Ignas  not  long  since.  They  had 
not  met  before,  for  ours  is  a  proud  soul,  and  would  not 
seek  the  old  man  first."  ^^ 

"  I  like  him  for  that.    I  hope  he  has  chosen  well,  for — 

"What!  do  you  know  Pan na  Castelli?  What  kind  of  a 
person  is  she?" 

"I  know  Panna  Castelli;  but,  you  see,  I  am  no  judge  of 
young  ladies.  Ba!  if  I  knew  them,  I  would  not  have 
waited  for  the  fortieth  year  as  a  single  man.  They  are 
all  good,  and  all  please  me;  but  since  I  have  seen,  as 
married  women,  a  few  of  those  who  pleased  me,  I  do  not 


448  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

believe  in.  any.  And  that  makes  me  angry;  for  if  1  had 
no  wish  to  marry  —  well,  I  should  say,  leave  the  matter! 
but  I  have  the  wish.  What  can  I  know?  I  know  that 
each  woman  has  a  corset;  but  what  sort  of  a  heart  is  inside 
it?  The  deuce  knows!  I  was  in  love  with  Panna  Castelli; 
but  for  that  matter  I  was  in  love  with  all  whom  I  met. 
With  her,  perhaps,  even  more  than  with  others." 

"  And  how  is  it  that  a  wife  did  not  come  to  your  head?  " 

"Ah,  the  devil  didn't  come  to  my  head!  But  at  that 
time  I  hadn't  the  money  that  I  have  to-day,  nor  the  reputa- 
tion. I  was  working  for  something  then;  and  believe  me 
that  no  people  are  so  shy  of  workers  as  the  children  of 
workers.  I  was  afraid  that  Pan  Bronich  or  Pani  Bronich 
might  object,  and  I  was  not  sure  of  the  lady;  therefore  I 
left  them  in  peace." 

"Pan  Ignas  has  no  money." 

"But  he  has  reputation,  and,  besides,  there  is  old  Zavi- 
lovski ;  and  a  connection  like  that  is  no  joke.  Who  among 
us  has  not  heard  of  the  old  man?  Besides,  as  to  me,  to 
tell  the  truth,  I  disliked  the  Broniches  to  the  degree  that 
at  last  I  turned  from  them." 

"You  knew  the  late  Pan  Bronich,  then?  Be  not  aston- 
ished that  I  ask,  for  with  me  it  is  a  question  of  our  Pan 
Ignas." 

"Whom  have  I  not  known?  I  knew  also  Pani  Bronich's 
sister,  — Pani  Castelli.  For  that  matter  I  have  been 
twenty-four  years  in  Italy,  and  am  about  forty, — that  is 
said  for  roundness.  In  fact,  I  am  forty-five.  I  knew  Pan 
Castelli,  too,  who  was  a  good  enough  man;  I  knew  all. 
What  shall  I  say  to  you?  Pani  Castelli  was  an  enthusiast, 
and  distinguished  by  Avearing  short  hair;  she  was  always 
unwashed,  and  had  neuralgia  in  the  face.  As  to  Pani 
Bronich,  you  know  her." 

"  But  who  was  Pan  Bronich?  " 

"  *  Teodor  '  ?  Pan  Bronich  was  a  double  fool,  —  first, 
because  he  was  a  fool;  and  second,  because  he  didn't  know 
himself  as  one.  But  I  am  silent,  for  *  de  mortuis  nil  nisi 
bonum.'  He  was  as  fat  as  she  is  thin;  he  weighed  more 
than  a  hundred  and  fifty  kilograms,  perhaps,  and  had 
fish  eyes.  In  general,  they  were  people  vain  beyond 
everything.  But  why  expatiate?  When  a  man  lives  a 
while  in  the  world,  and  sees  many  people,  and  talks  with 
them,  as  I  do  while  painting,  he  convinces  himself  that 
there  is  really  a  high  society,  which  rests  on  tradition, 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  4.^9 

and  besides  that  a  canaille,  which,  having  a  little  money, 
apes  great  society.  The  late  Bronich  and  his  present 
widow  always  seemed  to  me  of  that  race;  therefore  I  chose 
to  keep  them  at  a  distance.  If  Bukatski  were  alive,  he 
would  let  out  his  tongue  now  at  their  expense.  He  knew 
that  I  was  in  love  with  Panna  Castelli;  and  how  he  ridi- 
culed me,  may  the  Lord  not  remember  it  against  him! 
And  who  knows  whether  he  did  not  speak  justly?  for  what 
Panna  Lineta  is  will  be  shown  later." 

"It  concerns  me  most  of  all  to  learn  something  of  her." 

"  They  are  good,  all  good ;  but  I  am  afraid  of  them  and 
their  goodness,  —  unless  your  wife  would  go  security  for 
some  of  them." 

At  this  poiut  the  conversation  stopped,  and  they  began 
to  talk  of  Bukatski,  or  rather,  of  his  burial  of  the  day 
following,  for  w.hich  Pan  Stanislav  had  made  previously 
all  preparations. 

On  the  way  from  Svirski's  he  spoke  to  the  priest  again, 
and  then  informed  acquaintances  of  the  hour  on  the 
morrow. 

The  church  ceremony  of  burial  had  taken  place  at  Rome 
in  its  own  time,  so  Pan  Stanislav,  as  a  man  of  religious 
feeling,  invited  a  few  priests  to  join  their  prayers  to  the 
prayers  of  laymen  ;  he  did  this  also  through  attachment 
and  gratitude  to  Bukatski,  who  had  left  him  a  considerable 
part  of  his  property. 

Besides  the  Polanyetskis  came  the  Mashkos,  the  Osnov- 
skis,  the  Bigiels,  Svirski,  Pan  Plavitski,  and  Pani  Emilia, 
who  wished  at  the  same  time  to  visit  Litka.  The  day  was 
a  genuine  summer  one,  sunny  and  warm ;  the  cemetery  had 
a  different  seeming  altogether  from  what  it  had  during 
Pan  Stanislav's  former  visits.  The  great  healthy  trees 
formed  a  kind  of  thick,  dense  curtain  composed  of  dark 
and  bright  leaves,  covering  with  a  deep  green  shade  the 
white  and  gray  monuments.  In  places  the  cemetery  seemed 
simply  a  forest  full  of  gloom  and  coolness.  On  certain 
graves  was  quivering  a  shining  network  of  sunbeams, 
which  had  filtered  in  through  the  leaves  of  acacias,  poplars, 
hornbeams,  birch,  and  lindens ;  some  crosses,  nestling  in  a 
thick  growth,  seemed  as  if  dreaming  in  cool  air  above  the 
graves.  In  the  branches  and  among  the  leaves  were 
swarms  of  small  birds,  calling  out  from  every  side  with  an 
unceasing  twitter,  which  was  mild,  and,  as  it  were,  low 
purposely,  so  as  not  to  rouse  the  sleepers. 

2^ 


450  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

Svirski,  Mashko,  Polanyetski,  and  Osnovski  took  on 
their  shoulders  the  narrow  coffin  containing  the  remains 
of  Bukatski,  and  bore  it  to  the  tomb.  The  priests,  in  white 
surplices  now  gleaming  in  the  sun,  now  in  the  shade, 
walked  in  front  of  the  coffin;  behind  it  the  young  women, 
dressed  in  black  ;  and  all  the  company  went  slowly  through 
the  shady  alleys,  silently,  calmly,  without  sobs  or  tears, 
which  usually  accompany  a  coffin.  They  moved  only  with 
dignity  and  sadness,  which  were  on  their  faces  as  the 
shadow  of  the  trees  on  the  graves.  There  was,  however, 
in  all  this  a  certain  poetry  filled  with  melancholy ;  and 
the  impressionable  soul  of  Bukatski  would  have  felt  the 
charm  of  that  mourning  picture. 

In  this  way  they  arrived  at  the  tomb,  which  had  the 
form  of  a  sarcophagus,  and  was  entirely  above  ground,  for 
Bukatski  during  life  told  Svirski  that  he  ^id  not  wish  to 
lie  in  a  cellar.  The  coffin  was  pushed  in  easily  through 
the  iron  door ;  the  women  raised  their  eyes  then ;  their  lips 
muttered  prayers ;  and  after  a  time  Bukatski  was  left  to 
the  solitude  of  the  cemetery,  the  rustling  trees,  the  twitter 
of  birds,  and  the  mercy  of  God. 

Pani  Emilia  and  Pan  Stanislav  went  then  to  Litka ;  while 
the  rest  of  the  company  waited  in  the  carriages  before  the 
church,  for  thus  Pani  Aneta  had  wished. 

Pan  Stanislav  had  a  chance  to  convince  himself,  at  Litka's 
grave,  how  in  his  soul  that  child  once  so  beloved  had  gone 
into  the  blue  distance  and  become  a  shade.  Formerly 
when  he  visited  her  grave  he  rebelled  against  death,  and 
with  all  the  passion  of  fresh  sorrow  was  unreconciled  to 
it.  To-day  it  seemed  to  him  well-nigh  natural  that  she 
was  lying  in  the  shadow  of  those  trees,  in  that  cemetery ; 
he  had  the  feeling  almost  that  it  must  end  thus.  She  had 
ceased  all  but  completely  to  be  for  him  a  real  being,  and 
had  become  merely  a  sweet  inhabitant  of  his  memory,  a 
sigh,  a  ray,  simply  one  of  that  kind  of  reminiscences  which 
is  left  by  music. 

And  he  would  have  grown  indignant  at  himself,  perhaps, 
were  it  not  that  he  saw  Pani  Emilia  rise  after  her  finished 
prayer  with  a  serene  face,  with  an  expression  of  great 
tenderness  in  her  eyes,  but  without  tears.  He  noticed, 
however,  that  she  looked  as  sick  people  look,  that  she  rose 
from  her  knees  with  difficulty,  and  that  in  walking  she 
leaned  on  a  stick.  In  fact,  she  was  at  the  beginning  of  a 
sore  disease  of  the  loins,  which  later  on  confined  her  for 
years  to  the  bed,  and  only  left  her  at  the  coffin. 


CHILDREN   OF  THE  SOIL.  451 

Before  the  cemetery  gate  the  Osnovskis  were  waiting  for 
them  ;  Paui  Aneta  invited  them  to  a  betrothal  party  on 
the  morrow,  and  then  those  "  who  were  kind  "  to  Prytulov 

Svirski  sat  with  Pani  Emilia  in  Pan  Stanislav's  carriage, 
and  for  some  time  was  collecting  his  impressions  in  silence; 
but  at  last  he  said,  — 

"  How  wonderful  this  is !  To-day  at  a  funeral,  to-morrow 
at  a  betrothal ;  what  death  reaps,  love  sows,  —  and  that  is 
life ! " 


452  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 


CHAPTER  XLIX. 

Pan  Igxas  wished  the  betrothal  to  be  not  in  the  evening 
before  people,  but  earlier  ;  and  his  wish  was  gratified  all 
the  more,  since  Lineta,  who  wished  to  show  herself  to 
people  as  already  betrothed,  supported  him  before  Aunt 
Bronich.  They  felt  freer  thus ;  and  when  people  began  to 
assemble  they  appeared  as  a  young  couple.  The  light  of 
happiness  shone  from  Lineta.  She  found  a  charm  in  that 
role  of  betrothed  ;  and  the  role  added  charm  to  her.  In  her 
slender  form  there  was  something  winged.  Her  eyelids  did 
not  fall  to-day  sleepily  over  her  eyes;  those  eyes  were  full 
of  light,  her  lips  of  smiles,  her  face  was  in  blushes.  She 
was  so  beautiful  that  Svirski,  seeing  her,  could  not  refrain 
from  quiet  sighs  for  the  lost  paradise,  and  found  calmness 
for  his  soul  only  when  he  remembered  his  favorite  song,  — 

"  I  am  singing  and  not  sobbing, 
Tor  I  have  ceased  to  love  thee  too ! 

Huha-hu!" 

For  that  matter  her  beauty  struck  every  one  that  day. 
Old  Zavilovski,  who  had  himself  brought  in  his  chair  to 
the  drawing-room,  held  her  hands  and  gazed  at  her  for  a 
time  ;  then,  looking  around  at  his  daughter,  he  said,  — 

"  Well,  such  a  Venetian  half-devil  can  turn  the  head,  she 
can,  and  especially  the  head  of  a  poet,  for  in  the  heads  of 
those  gentlemen  is  fiu,  fiu  !  as  people  say." 

Then  he  turned  to  the  young  man  and  asked,  — 

"  Well,  wilt  thou  break  my  neck  to-day  because  I  said 
Venetian  half-devil  to  thee  ?  " 

Pan  Ignas  laughed,  and,  bending  his  head,  kissed  the  old 
man's  shoulder,  "  No ;  I  could  not  break  any  one's  neck 
to-day." 

"  Well,"  said  the  old  man,  evidently  rejoiced  at  those 
marks  of  honor,  "  may  God  and  the  Most  Holy  Lady  bless 
you  both!  I  say  the  Most  Holy  Lady,  for  her  protection  is 
the  basis." 

When  he  had  said  this,  he  began  to  search  behind  in  the 
chair,  and,  drawing  forth  a  large  jewel-case,  said  to  Lineta, — 

"  This  is  from  the  family  of  the  Zavilovskis  ;  God  grant 
thee  to  wear  it  long!  " 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  453 

Lineta,  taking  the  box,  bent  her  charming  figure  to  kiss 
him  on  the  shoulder ;  he  embraced  her  neck,  and  said  to  the 
bridegroom,  — 

"But  thou  might  come." 

And  he  kissed  both  on  the  forehead,  and  said,  with 
greater  emotion  than  he  wished  to  show,  — 

"  Now  love  and  revere  each  other,  like  honest  people." 

Lineta  opened  the  case,  in  which  on  a  sapphire-colored 
satin  cushion  gleamed  a  splendid  riviere  of  diamonds.  The 
old  man  said  ouce  more  with  emphasis,  *'  From  the  family  of 
the  Zavilovskis,"  wishing  evidently  to  show  that  the  young 
lady  who  married  a  Zavilovski,  even  without  property,  was 
not  doing  badly.  But  no  one  heard  him,  for  the  heads  of 
the  ladies  —  of  Lineta,  Pani  Aneta,  Pani  Mashko,  Pani 
Bronich  and  even  Marynia —  bent  over  the  flashing  stones; 
and  breath  was  stopped  in  their  mouths  for  a  time,  till  at 
last  a  murmur  of  admiration  and  praise  broke  the  silence. 

"  It  is  not  a  question  of  diamonds  !  "  cried  Pani  Bronich, 
casting  herself  almost  into  the  arms  of  old  Zavilovski,  "  but 
as  the  gift,  so  the  heart." 

"  Do  not  mention  it  Pani ;  do  not  mention  it !  "  said  the 
old  man,  warding  her  off. 

Now  the  society  broke  into  pairs  or  small  groups ;  the 
betrothed  were  so  occupied  with  each  other  that  the 
whole  world  vanished  from  before  them.  Osnovski  and 
Svirski  went  up  to  Marynia  and  Pani  Bigiel.  Kopovski 
undertook  to  entertain  the  lady  of  the  house ;  Pan  Stan- 
islav  was  occupied  with  Pani  Mashko.  As  to  Mashko 
himself,  he  was  anxious  evidently  to  make  a  nearer 
acquaintance  with  the  Croesus,  for  he  so  fenced  him  off 
with  his  armchair  that  no  one  could  approach  him,  and 
began  then  to  talk  of  remote  times  and  the  present,  which, 
as  he  divined  easily,  had  become  a  favorite  theme  for  the 
old  man. 

But  he  was  too  keen-witted  to  be  of  Zavilovski  s  opinion 
in  all  things.  Moreover,  the  old  man  did  not  attack  recent 
times  always ;  nay,  he  admired  them  in  part.  He  acknowl- 
edged that  in  many  regards  they  werr^  moving  toward  the 
better;  still  he  could  not  take  them  in.  But  Mashko  ex- 
plained to  him  that  everything  must  change  on  earth; 
hence  nobles,  as  well  as  other  strata  of  society. 

«I,  respected  sir,"  said  he,  "hold  to  the  land  through  a 
certain  inherited  instinct,  — through  that  something  which 
attracts  to  land  the  man  who  came  from  it;  but,   while 


454  CHILDREN  OF  THE   SOIL. 

managing  my  own  property,  I  am  an  advocate,  and  I  am 
one  on  principle.  We  should  have  our  own  people  in  that 
department;  if  we  do  not,  we  shall  be  at  the  mercy  of 
men  coming  from  other  spheres,  and  often  directly  opposed 
to  us.  And  I  must  render  our  landholders  this  justice,  that 
for  the  greater  part  they  understand  this  well,  and  choose 
to  conhde  their  business  to  me  rather  than  to  others.  Some 
think  it  even  a  duty." 

*•  The  bar  has  been  filled  from  our  ranks  at  all  times," 
answered  Pan  Zavilovski ;  '*  but  will  the  noble  succeed  in 
other  branches?  As  God  lives,  I  cannot  tell.  I  hear,  and- 
hear  that  we  ought  to  undertake  everything;  but  people 
forget  that  to  undertake  and  to  succeed  are  quite  different. 
Show  me  the  man  who  has  succeeded." 

"  Here  he  is,  respected  sir.  Pan  Polanyetski :  he  in  a 
commission  house  has  made  quite  a  large  property;  and 
what  he  has  is  in  ready  cash,  so  that  he  could  put  it  all  on 
the  table  to-morrow.  He  will  not  deny  that  my  counsels 
have  been  of  profit  to  him  frequently ;  but  what  he  has 
made,  he  has  made  through  commerce,  mainly  in  grain." 

"  Indeed,  indeed  ! "  said  the  old  noble,  gazing  at  Pan 
Stanislav,  and  staring  from  wonder,  "  has  he  really  made 
property  ?  Is  it  possible  ?  Is  he  of  the  real  Polanyet- 
skis  ?     That 's  a  good  family." 

"And  that  stalwart  man  with  brown  hair  ?  " 

"  Is  Svirski  the  artist." 

"  I  know  him,  for  I  saw  him  abroad ;  and  the  Svirskis 
did  not  make  fires  as  an  occupation." 

"  But  he  can  only  paint  money,  for  he  has  n't  made  any." 

"  He  has  n't ! "  said  Mashko,  in  a  confidential  tone.  "  Not 
one  big  estate  in  Podolia  will  give  as  much  income  as  aqua- 
relles give  him." 

"What  is  that?" 

"Pictures  in  water-colors." 

"  Is  it  possible  ?  not  even  oil  paintings  !  And  he  too  —  ? 
Ha!  then,  perhaps,  my  relative  will  make  something  at 
verses.  Let  him  write ;  let  him  write.  I  will  not  take  it 
ill  of  him.  Pan  Zygmund  was  a  noble,  and  he  wrote,  and 
not  for  display.  Pan  Adam  was  a  noble  also;  but  he 
is  famous,  —  more  famous  than  that  brawler  who  has 
worked  with  democracy  —  W^hat  's  his  name  ?  Never 
mind!  You  say  that  times  are  changing.  Hm,  are  they? 
Let  them  change  for  themselves,  if  only  with  God's  help, 
for  the  better." 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  455 

''The  main  thing,"  said  Mashko,  "is  not  to  shut  up 
a  man's  power  in  his  head,  nor  capital  in  chests ;  whoever 
does  that,  simply  sins  against  society." 

"  Well,  but  with  permission !  How  do  you  understand 
this,  —  Am  I  not  free  to  close  with  a  key  what  belongs  to 
me  ;  must  I  leave  my  chests  open  to  a  robber  ?  " 

Mashko  smiled  with  a  shade  of  loftiness,  and,  putting  his 
hand  on  the  arm  of  the  chair,  said,  — 

"  That  is  not  the  question,  respected  sir."  And  then  he 
began  to  explain  the  principles  of  political  economy  to  Pan 
Zavilovski ;  the  old  noble  listened,  nodding  his  head,  and 
repeating  from  time  to  time, — 

"  Indeed  !  that  is  something  new !  but  I  managed  with- 
out it." 

Pani  Bronich  followed  the  betrothed  with  eyes  full  of 
emotion,  and  at  the  same  time  told  Plavitski  (who  on  his 
part  was  following  Pani  Aneta  with  eyes  not  less  full 
of  emotion)  about  the  years  of  her  youth,  her  life  with 
Teodor,  and  the  misfortune  which  met  them  because  of 
the  untimely  arrival  in  the  world  of  their  only  descendant, 
and  Plavitski  listened  with  distraction ;  but,  moved  at  last 
by  her  own  narrative,  she  said  with  a  somewhat  quivering 
voice,  — 

"So  all  my  love,  hope,  and  faith  are  in  Lineta.  You 
will  understand  this,  for  you  too  have  a  daughter.  And  as 
to  Lolo,  just  think  what  a  blessing  that  child  would  have 
been  had  he  lived,  since  even  dead  he  rendered  us  so  much 
service  —  " 

"Immensely  touching,  immensely  touching!"  inter- 
rupted Plavitski. 

"  Oh,  it  is  true,"  continued  Pani  Bronich.  "  How  often  in 
harvest  time  did  my  husband  run  with  the  cry,  *Lolo 
monte ! '  and  send  out  all  his  laboring  men  to  the  field. 
\yith  others,  wheat  sprouted  in  the  shocks,  with  us,  never. 
Oh,  true!  And  the  loss  was  the  greater  in  this,  that  that 
was  our  last  hope.  My  husband  was  a  man  in  years,  and 
I  can  say  that  for  me  he  was  the  best  of  protectors ;  but 
after  this  misfortune,  only  a  protector."  ^ 

"  Here  I  cease  to  understand  him,"  said  Plavitski.  Ha, 
ha!  I  fail  altogether  to  understand  him."  . 

And,  opening  his  mouth,  he  looked  roguishly  at  Pam 
Bronich  ;  she  slapped  him  lightly  with  her  fan,  and  said,  — 

"These  men  are  detestable;  for  them  there  is  nothing 
sacred." 


456  CHILDREN   OF  THE   SOIL. 

""Who  is  that,  a  real  Perugiuo, --that  pale  lady,  with 
whom  your  husband  is  talking  ? "  asked  Svirski  now  of 
Maiynia. 

"  An  acquaintance  of  ours,  Paul  Mashko.  Have  you  not 
been  presented  to  her  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  1  became  acquainted  with  her  yesterday  at  the 
funeral,  but  forget  her  name.  I  know  that  she  is  the  wife 
of  that  gentleman  who  is  talking  with  old  Pan  Zavilovski. 
A  pure  Vannuci !  The  same  quietism,  and  a  little  yellowisli ; 
but  she  has  very  beautiful  lines  in  her  form." 

And  looking  a  little  longer  he  added,  — 

"A  quenched  face,  but  uncommon  lines  in  the  whole 
figure.  As  it  were  slender ;  look  at  the  outline  of  her  arm^ 
and  shoulders." 

But  Marynia  was  not  looking  at  the  outlines  of  the  arms 
and  shoulders  of  Pani  Mashko,  but  at  her  husband ;  and  on 
her  face  alarm  was  reflected  on  a  sudden.  Pan  Stanislav 
was  just  inclining  toward  Pani  Mashko  and  telling  her 
something  whicli  Marynia  could  not  hear,  for  they  were 
sitting  at  a  distance  ;  but  it  seemed  to  her  that  at  times  he 
gazed  into  that  quenched  face  and  those  pale  eyes  with  the 
same  kind  of  look  with  which  during  their  journey  after 
marriage  he  had  gazed  at  her  sometimes.  Ah,  she  knew 
that  look !  And  her  heart  began  now  to  beat,  as  if  feeling 
some  great  danger.  But  immediately  she  said  to  herself, 
"That  cannot  be  !  That  would  be  unworthy  of  Stas."  Still 
she  could  not  refrain  from  looking  at  them.  Pan  Stanislav 
was  telling  something  very  vivaciously,  which  Pani  Mashko 
listened  to  with  her  usual  indifference.  Marynia  thought 
■  again :  "  Something  only  seemed  to  me !  He  is  speaking 
vivaciously  as  usual,  but  nothing  more."  The  remnant  of 
her  doubt  was  destroyed  by  Svirski,  who,  either  because  he 
noticed  her  alarm  and  inquiring  glance,  or  because  he  did 
not  notice  the  expression  on  Pan  Stanislav's  face,  said,  — 

"  With  all  this  she  says  nothing.  Your  husband  must 
keep  up  the  conversation,  and  he  looks  at  once  weary  and 
angry." 

Marynia's  face  grew  radiant  in  one  instant.  "  Oh,  you 
are  right!  Stas  is  annoyed  a  little,  surely;  and  the  moment 
he  is  annoyed  he  is  angry." 

And  she  fell  into  perfect  good-humor.  She  would  have 
been  glad  to  give  a  riviere  of  diamonds,  like  that  which  Pan 
Zavilovski  had  brought  to  Lineta,  to  make  "  Stas  "  approach 
at  that  moment,  to  say  something  herself  to  him,  and  hear  a 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  457 

kind  word  from  him.  In  fact,  a  few  minutes  later  her  wish 
was  accomplished,  for  Osnovski  approached  Pani  Mashko  • 
Fan  Stanislav  rose,  and,  sajnng  a  word  or  two  on  the  way  to 
Pani  Aneta,  who  was  talking  to  Kopovski,  sat  down  at  last 
by  his  wife. 

"Dost  wish  to  tell  me  something?"  he  inquired. 

"How  wonderful  it  is,  Stas,  for  I  called  to  thee  that 
moment,  but  only  in  mind  ;  still  thou  hast  felt  and  art  here 
with  me." 

"  See  what  a  husband  I  am,"  answered  he,  with  a  smile. 
"  But  the  reason  is  really  very  simple :  I  noticed  thee  look- 
ing at  me  ;  I  was  afraid  that  something  might  have  happened, 
and  I  came." 

"  I  was  looking,  for  I  wanted  something." 

"  And  I  came,  for  I  wanted  something.  How  dost  thou 
feel?  Tell  the  truth!  Perhaps  thou  hast  a  wish  to  go  home  ?  " 

"No,  Stas,  as  I  love  thee,  I  am  perfectly  comfortable.  I 
was  talking  with  Pan  Svirski  of  Pani  Mashko,  and  was  en- 
tertained well." 

"  I  guessed  that  you  were  gossiping  about  her.  This  artist 
says  himself  that  he  has  an  evil  tongue." 

"On  the  contrary,"  answered  Svirski,  "I  was  only  ad- 
miring her  form.  The  turn  for  my  tongue  may  come 
later." 

"Oh,  that  is  true,"  said  Pan  Stanislav;  "Pani  Osnovski 
says  that  she  has  indeed  a  bad  figure,  and  that  is  proof 
that  she  has  a  good  one.  But,  Marynia,  I  will  tell  thee 
something  of  Pani  Osnovski."  Here  he  bent  toward  his 
wife,  and  whispered,  "Knowest  what  I  heard  from 
Kopovski's  lips  when  I  was  coming  to  thee  ?" 

"  What  was  it  ?  Something  amusing  ?  " 

"  Just  as  one  thinks :  I  heard  him  say  thou  to  Pani 
Aneta." 

"  Stas ! " 

"  As  I  love  thee,  he  did.  He  said  to  her, '  Thou  art  always 
so.'" 

"  Maybe  he  was  quoting  some  other  person's  words." 

"I  don't  know.  Maybe  he  was;  maybe  he  wasn't. 
Besides,  they  may  have  been  in  love  sometime." 

"  Pi !  Be  ashamed." 

"Say  that  to  them  — or  rather  to  Pani  Aneta." 

Marynia,  who  knew  perfectly  well  that  unfaithfulness 
exists,  but  looking  on  it  rather  as  some  French  literary 
theory,  —  she  had  not  even  imagined  that  one  might  meet 


458  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

such  a  thing  at  every  step  and  in  practice,  —  began  to  look 
now  at  Pani  Aneta  with  wonder,  and  at  the  same  time  with 
the  immense  curiosity  with  which  ho;iest  women  look  at 
those  who  have  had  boldness  to  leave  the  high-road  for  by- 
paths. She  had  too  truthful  a  nature,  however,  to  believe 
in  evil  immediately,  and  she  did  not;  and  somehow  it 
would  not  find  a  place  in  her  head  that  really  there  could  be 
anything  between  those  two,  if  only  because  of  the  unheard- 
of  stupidity  of  Kopovski.  She  noticed,  however,  that  they 
were  talking  with  unusual  vivacity. 

But  they,  sitting  somewhat  apart  between  a  great  porce- 
lain vase  and  the  piano,  had  not  only  been  talking,  but 
arguing  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour. 

"  I  fear  that  he  has  heard  something,"  said  Pani  Aneta, 
with  a  certain  alarm,  after  Pan  Stanislav  had  passed. 
"  Thou  art  never  careful." 

"  Yes,  it  is  always  my  fault !  But  who  is  forever  repeat- 
ing, 'Be  careful'?" 

In  this  regard  both  were  truly  worthy  of  each  other,  since 
he  could  foresee  nothing  because  of  his  dulness,  and  she 
was  foolhardy  to  recklessness.  Two  persons  knew  their 
secret  now ;  others  might  divine  it.  One  needed  all  the  in- 
fatuation of  Osnovski  not  to  infer  anything.  But  it  was  on 
that  that  she  reckoned. 

Meanwhile  Kopovski  looked  at  Pan  Stanislav  and  said,  — 

"He  has  heard  nothing." 

Then  he  returned  to  the  conversation  which  they  had  be- 
gun ;  but  now  he  spoke  in  lower  tones  and  in  French,  — 

"Didst  thou  love  me,  thou  wouldst  be  different ;  but  since 
thou  dost  not  love,  what  harm  could  that  be  to  thee  ?  " 

Then  he  turned  on  her  his  wonderful  eyes  without  mind, 
while  she  answered  impatiently,  — 

"  Whether  I  love,  or  love  not,  Castelka  never !  Dost  un- 
derstand ?  Never !  I  would  prefer  any  other  to  her,  though, 
if  thou  wert  in  love  with  me  really,  thou  wouldst  not  think 
of  marriage." 

"  I  would  not  think  of  it,  if  thou  wert  different." 

"Be  patient." 

"  Yes  !  till  death  ?  If  I  married  Castelka,  we  should  then 
be  near  really." 

"  Never !  I  repeat  to  thee." 

"Well,  but  why?" 

"Thou  wouldst  not  understand  it.  Besides,  Castelka  is 
betrothed;  it  is  too  bad  to  lose  time  in  discussing  this." 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  459 

"Thou  thyself  hast  commanded  me  to  pay  court  to  her 
and  now  art  casting  reproaches.  At  first  I  thought  of 
nothing;  but  afterward  she  pleased  me,  —  I  do  not  deny 
this.    She  pleases  all ;  and,  besides,  she  is  a  good  match." 

Fani  Aneta  began  to  pull  at  the  end  of  her  handker- 
chief. 

"  And  thou  hast  the  boldness  to  say  to  my  eyes  that  she 
pleased  thee,"  said  she  at  last.     "  Is  it  I,  or  she  ?  " 

"  Thou,  but  thee  I  cannot  marry  ;  her  I  could,  for  I  saw 
well  that  I  pleased  her." 

''  If  thou  wert  better  acquainted  with  women,  thou  wouldst 
be  glad  that  I  did  not  let  it  go  to  marriage.  Thou  dost  not 
know  her.  She  is  just  like  a  stick,  and,  besides,  is  malicious 
in  character.  Dost  thou  not  understand  that  I  told  thee  to 
pay  court  to  her  out  of  regard  to  people,  and  to  Yozio  ? 
Otherwise,  how  explain  thy  daily  visits  ?  " 

"  I  could  understand,  wert  thou  other  than  tliou  art." 

''  Do  not  oppose  me.  I  have  fixed  all,  as  thou  seest,  to 
keep  thy  portrait  from  being  finished,  and  give  thee  a  chance 
to  visit  Prytulov.  Steftsia  Ratkovski,  a  distant  relative  of 
Yozio's,  will  be  there  soon.  Dost  understand  ?  Thou  must 
pretend  that  she  pleases  thee  ;  and  I  will  talk  what  I  like 
into  Yozio.  In  this  way  thou  wilt  be  able  to  stop  at  Pry- 
tulov. I  have  written  to  Panna  Ratkovski  already.  She  is 
not  a  beauty,  but  agreeable." 

"  Always  pretence,  and  nothing  for  it." 

"  Suppose  I  should  say  to  thee :  Don't  come." 

"  Anetka ! " 

"Then  be  patient,  I  cannot  be  angry  long  with  thee. 
But  now  go  thy  way.     Amuse  Pani  Mashko." 

And  a  moment  later  Pani  Aneta  was  alone.  Her  eyes 
followed  Kopovski  a  while  with  the  remnant  of  her  anger, 
but  also  with  a  certain  tenderness.  In  the  white  cravat, 
with  his  dark  tint  of  face,  he  was  so  killingly  beautiful  that 
she  could  not  gaze  at  him  sufficiently.  Lineta  was  now  the 
betrothed  of  another ;  still  the  thought  seemed  unendurable 
that  that  daily  rival  of  hers  might  possess  him,  if  not  as 
husband,  as  lover.  Pani  Aneta,  in  telling  Kopovski  that 
she  would  yield  him  to  any  other  rather  than  to  Castelka, 
told  the  pure  truth.  That  was  for  her  a  question,  at  once 
of  an  immense  weakness  for  that  dull  Endymion,  and  a 
question  of  self-love.  Her  nerves  simply  could  not  agree 
to  it.  Certain  inclinations  of  the  senses,  which  she  herself 
looked  on  as  lofty,  and  rising  from  a  Grecian  nature,  but 


460  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

which  at  the  root  of  the  matter  were  common,  took  the  place 
in  her  of  morality  and  conscience.  By  virtue  of  these  incli- 
nations, she  fell  under  the  irresistible  charm  of  Kopovski ; 
but  having  not  only  a  heated  head,  but  a  temperament  of 
fishy  coldness,  she  preferred,  as  Pan  Iguas  divined  intui- 
tively, the  play  with  evil  to  evil  itself.  Holding,  in  her  way, 
to  the  principle,  "  If  not  I,  then  no  one  !  "  she  was  ready  to 
push  matters  to  the  utmost  to  prevent  the  marriage  of  Ko- 
povski to  Lineta,  the  more  since  she  saw  that  Lineta,  in  spite 
of  all  her  '•  words  "  about  Kopovski,  in  spite  of  the  irony 
with  which  she  had  mentioned  him  and  her  jests  about  the 
man,  was  also  under  the  charm  of  his  exceptional  beauty ; 
that  all  those  jests  were  simply  self-provocation,  under 
which  was  concealed  an  attraction ;  and  that,  in  general,  the 
source  of  her  pleasure  and  Lineta's  was  the  same.  But  she 
did  not  observe  that,  for  this  reason,  she  at  the  bottom  of 
her  soul  had  contempt  for  Lineta. 

She  knew  that  Lineta,  through  very  vanity,  would  not 
oppose  her  persuasion,  and  the  homages  of  a  man  with  a 
famous  name.  In  this  way,  she  had  retained  Kopovski, 
and,  besides,  had  produced  for  herself  a  splendid  spectacle, 
on  which  women,  who  are  more  eager  for  impressions 
than  feelings,  look  always  with  greediness.  Besides,  if 
that  famous  Pan  Ignas,  when  his  wife  becomes  an  every- 
day object,  should  look  somewhere  for  a  Beatrice,  he  might 
find  her.  Little  is  denied  men  who  have  power  to  hand 
down,  to  the  memory  of  mankind  and  the  homage  of  ages, 
the  name  of  a  loved  one.  These  plans  for  the  future  Pani 
Aneta  had  not  outlined  hitherto  expressly ;  but  she  had,  as 
it  were,  a  misty  feeling  that  her  triumph  would  in  that  case 
be  perfect. 

Moreover,  she  had  triumphed  even  now,  for  all  had  gone 
as  she  wished.  Still  Kopovski  made  her  angry.  She  had 
considered  him  as  almost  her  property.  Meanwhile,  she 
saw  that,  so  far  as  he  was  able  to  understand  anything,  he 
understood  this,  that  the  head  does  not  ache  from  abun- 
dance, and  that  Aneta  might  not  hinder  Lineta.  That 
roused  her  so  keenly  that  at  moments  she  was  thinking 
how  to  torment  him  in  return.  Meanwhile,  she  was  glad 
that  Lineta  paraded  herself  as  being  in  love  really,  soul  and 
heart,  with  Pan  Ignas,  which  for  Kopovski  was  at  once 
both  a  riddle  and  a  torture. 

These  thoughts  flew  through  her  head  like  lightning,  and 
flew  all  of  them  in  the  short   time   that   she  was   alone. 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  461 

At  last  she  was  interrupted  by  the  serving  of  supper. 
Osnovski,  who  desired  that  his  wife  should  be  surrounded 
by  such  homage  from  every  one  as  he  himself  gave,  and  to 
whom  it  seemed  that  what  he  had  said  to  Pan  Ignas  about 
his  married  life  was  very  appropriate,  had  the  unhappy 
thought  to  repeat  at  the  first  toast  the  wish  tliat  Pan 
Ignas  might  be  as  happy  with  Lineta  as  he  with  his  wife. 
Hereupon,  the  eyes  of  Pan  Ignas  and  Pan  Stanislav  turned 
involuntarily  to  Pani  Osnovski,  who  looked  quickly  at  Pan 
Stanislav,  and  doubts  on  both  sides  disappeared  in  one 
instant ;  that  is,  she  gained  the  perfect  certainty  that  Pan 
Stanislav  had  heard  them,  and  he,  that  Kopovski  had  not 
quoted  the  words  of  another,  but  had  said  tltou  in  direct 
speech  to  the  lady.  Pani  Aneta  had  guessed  even  that  Pan 
Stanislav  must  have  spoken  of  tliat  to  Marynia,  for  she  had 
seen  how,  after  he  had  passed,  both  had  talked  and  looked 
a  certain  time  at  her  with  great  curiosity.  The  thought 
filled  her  with  anger  and  a  desire  of  revenge,  so  that  she 
listened  without  attention  to  the  further  toasts,  which  were 
given  by  her  husband,  by  Pan  Ignas,  by  Plavitski,  and 
at  last  by  Pan  Bigiel. 

But,  after  supper,  it  came  to  her  head  all  at  once  to 
arrange  a  dancing-party;  and'  ''Yozio,"  obedient  as  ever 
to  each  beck  of  hers,  and,  besides,  excited  after  feasting, 
supported  the  thought  enthusiastically.  Marynia  could  not 
dance,  but  besides  her  there  were  five  youthful  ladies,  — 
Lineta,  Pani  Osnovski,  Pani  Bigiel,  Pani  Mashko,  and 
Panna  Zavilovski.  The  last  declared,  it  is  true,  that  she  did 
not  dance ;  but,  since  people  said  that  she  neither  danced, 
talked,  ate,  nor  drank,  her  refusal  did  not  stop  the  readi- 
ness of  others.  Osnovski,  who  was  in  splendid  feeling, 
declared  that  Ignas  should  take  Lineta  in  his  arms,  for 
surely  he  had  not  dared  to  do  so  thus  far. 

It  turned  out,  however,  that  Pan  Ignas  could  not  avail 
himself  of  Pan  Osnovski's  friendly  wishes,  for  he  had 
never  danced  in  his  life,  and  had  not  the  least  knowledge 
of  dancing,  which  not  only  astonished  Pani  Bronich  and 
Lineta,  but  offended  them  somewhat.  Kopovski,  on  the 
other  hand,  possessed  this  art  in  a  high  degree;  hence  he 
began  the  dance  with  Lineta,  as  the  heroine  of  tlie  evening. 
Tliey  were  a  splendid  pair,  and  eyes  followed  them  invol- 
untarily. Pan  Ignas  was  forced  to  see  her  golden  head 
incline  toward  Kopovski's  shoulder,  to  see  their  bosonis 
near  each  other,  to  see  both  whirling  to  the  time  of  Bigiel's 


462  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

waltz,  joined  in  the  harmony  of  movement,  blending,  as  it 
were,  into  one  tune  and  one  unity.  Even  from  looking  at 
all  this,  he  grew  angry,  for  he  understood  that  there  was  a 
thing  which  he  did  not  know,  which  would  connect  Lineta 
with  others  and  disconnect  her  with  him.  Besides,  people 
about  him  mentioned  the  beauty  of  the  dancing  couple; 
and  Svirski,  sitting  near  him,  said,  — 

"  What  a  beautiful  man !  If  there  were  male  houris,  as 
there  are  female,  he  might  be  a  houri  in  a  Mussulman 
paradise  for  women." 

They  waltzed  long;  and  there  was  in  the  tones  of  the 
music,  as  in  their  movements,  something,  as  it  were,  intoxi- 
cating, a  kind  of  dizzy  faintness,  which  incensed  Pan  Ignas 
still  more,  for  he  recalled  Byron's  verses  on  waltzing, — ■ 
verses  as  cynical  as  they  are  truthful.  At  last,  he  said  to 
himself,  with  complete  impatience :  "  When  will  that  ass 
let  her  go  ?  "  He  feared,  too,  that  Kopovski  might  tire 
her  too  much. 

The  "  ass  "  let  her  go  at  last  at  the  other  end  of  the 
hall,  and  straightway  took  Pani  Aneta.  But  Lineta  ran  up 
to  her  betrothed,  and,  sitting  down  at  his  side,  said, 

"He  dances  well,  but  he  likes  to  exhibit  his  skill,  for 
he  has  nothing  else.  He  kept  me  too  long.  I  have  lost 
breath  a  little,  and  my  heart  is  beating.  If  you  could 
put  your  hand  there  and  feel  how  it  beats  —  but  it  is  not 
proper  to  do  so.  How  wonderful,  too,  for  it  is  your 
property." 

"  My  property ! "  said  Pan  Ignas,  holding  out  his  hand 
to  her.     "Do  not  say  *  your  '  to  me  to-day,  Lineta." 

"Thy  property,"  she  whispered,  and  she  did  not  ward 
ofE  his  hand,  she  only  let  it  drop  down  a  little  on  her  robe, 
so  that  people  might  not  notice  it. 

"I  was  jealous  of  him,"  said  Pan  Ignas,  pressing  her 
fingers  passionately. 

"Dost  wish  I  will  dance  no  more  to-day?  I  like  to 
dance,  but  I  prefer  to  be  near  thee." 

"My  worshipped  one! " 

"  I  am  a  stupid  society  girl,  but  I  want  to  be  worthy  of 
thee.  As  thou  seest,  I  love  music  greatly,  —  even  waltzes 
and  polkas.  Somehow  they  act  on  me  wonderfully.  How 
well  this  Pan  Bigiel  plays!  But  I  know  that  there  are 
things  higher  than  waltzes.  Hold  ray  handkerchief,  and 
drop  my  hand  for  a  moment.  It  is  thy  hand,  but  I  must 
arrange  my  hair.     It  is  time  to  dance;   to  dance  is  not 


CHILDREN  OP  THE  SOIL.  463 

wrong,  is  it  ?  But  if  thou  wish,  I  will  not  dance,  for  I 
am  an  obedient  creature.  I  will  learn  to  read  in  thy  eyes, 
and  afterward  shall  be  like  water,  which  reflects  both 
clouds  and  clear  weather.  So  pleasant  is  it  for  me  near 
thee  !     See  how  perfectly  those  people  dance  !  " 

Words  failed  Pan  Ignas;  only  in  one  way  could  he 
have  shown  what  he  felt,  —  by  kneeling  before  her.  But 
she  pointed  out  Pan  Stanislav,  who  was  dancing  with  Pani 
M)sliko,  and  admired  them  heartily. 

"Really  he  dances  better  than  Pan  Kopovski,"  said  she, 
with  gleaming  eyes;  "and  she,  how  graceful!  Oh,  I  should 
like  to  dance  even  once  with  him  —  if  thou  permit." 

Pan  Ignas,  in  whom  Pan  Stanislav  did  not  rouse  the 
least  jealousy,  said,  — 

"My  treasure,  as  often  as  may  please  thee.  I  will  send 
him  at  once  to  thee." 

"Oh,  how  perfectly  he  dances!  how  perfectly!  And 
this  waltz,  it  is  like  some  delightful  shiver.  They  are 
sailing,  not  dancing." 

Of  this  opinion,  too,  was  Marynia,  who,  following  the 
couple  with  her  eyes,  experienced  a  still  greater  feeling  of 
bitterness  than  Pan  Ignas  a  little  while  earlier;  for  it 
seemed  a  number  of  times  to  her  that  Pan  Stanislav  had 
looked  again  on  Pani  Mashko  with  .that  expression  with 
which  he  had  looked  when  Svirski  supposed  that  either  he 
was  annoyed,  or  was  angry.  But  now  such  a  supposition 
was  impossible.  At  moments  both  dancers  passed  near 
her;  and  then  she  saw  distinctly  how  his  arm  embraced 
firmly  Pani  Mashko's  waist,  how  his  breath  swept  around 
her  neck,  how  his  nostrils  were  dilated,  how  his  glances 
slipped  over  her  naked  bosom.  That  might  be  invisible 
for  others,  but  not  for  ]\larynia,  who  could  read  in  his 
face  as  in  a  book.  And  all  at  once  the  light  of  the  lamps 
became  dark  in  her  eyes;  she  understood  that  it  was  one 
thing  not  to  be  happy,  and  another  to  be  unhappy.  This 
lasted  briefly,  — as  briefly  as  one  tact  of  the  waltz,  or  one 
instant  in  which  a  heart  that  is  straitened  ceases  to 
beat;  but  it  sufficed  for  the  feeling  that  life  in  the  future 
might  be  embroiled,  and  present  love  changed  into  a  bitter 
and  contemptuous  sorrow.  And  that  feeling  filled  her  with 
terror.  Before  her  was  drawn  aside,  as  it  were,  a  curtain, 
behind  which  appeared  unexpectedly  all  the  sham  of  life, 
all  the  wretchedness  and  meanness  of  human  nature. 
Nothing  had  happened  yet,  absolutely  nothing;  but  a  vision 


464  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

came  to  Marynia,  in  which  she  saw  that  there  might  be  a 
time  when  her  confidence  in  her  husband  would  vanish  like 
smoke. 

She  tried,  however,  to  ward  away  doubts;  she  wished  to 
talk  into  herself  that  he  was  under  the  influence  of  the 
dance,  not  of  his  partner;  she  preferred  not  to  believe  her 
eyes.  Shame  seized  her  for  that  "  Stas  "  of  whom  she  had 
been  so  proud  up  to  that  time;  and  she  struggled  with  all 
her  strength  against  that  feeling,  understanding  that  it 
was  a  question  of  enormous  importance,  and  that  from 
that  little  thing,  and  from  that  fault  of  his,  hitherto  almost 
nothing,  might  flow  results  which  would  act  on  their  whole 
future. 

At  that  moment  was  heard  near  her  the  jesting  voice  of 
Pani  Aneta. 

"Ah,  Marynia,  nature  has  created,  as  it  were,  purposely, 
thy  husband  and  Pani  Mashko  to  waltz  with  each  other. 
What  a  pair !  " 

"Yes,"  answered  Marynia,  with  an  effort. 

And  Pani  Aneta  twittered  on:  "Perfectly  fitted  for  each 
other.  It  is  true  that  in  thy  place  I  should  be  a  little 
jealous;  but  thou,  art  thou  jealous?  Xo?  I  am  outspoken, 
and  confess  freely  that  I  should  be ;  at  least,  it  was  so  with 
me  once.  I  know,  for  that  matter,  that  Yozio  loves  me; 
but  these  men,  even  while  loving,  have  their  little  fancies. 
Their  heads  do  not  ache  the  least  on  that  score ;  and  that 
our  hearts  ache,  they  do  not  see,  or  do  not  wish  to  see. 
The  best  of  them  are  not  different.  Yozio?  true!  he  is  a 
model  husband;  and  dost  thou  think  that  I  do  not  know 
him?  Now,  when  I  have  grown  used  to  him,  laughter 
seizes  me  often,  for  they  are  all  so  awkward!  I  know  the 
minute  that  Yozio  is  beginning  to  be  giddy;  and  knowest 
thou  what  my  sign  is?" 

Marynia  was  looking  continually  at  her  husband,  who 
had  ceased  now  to  dance  with  Pani  Mashko,  and  had  taken 
Lineta.  She  felt  great  relief  all  at  once,  for  it  seemed  to 
her  that  "Stas,"  while  dancing  with  Lineta,  had  the  same 
expression  of  face.  Her  suspicions  began  to  fade;  and  she 
thought. at  once  that  she  had  judged  him  unjustly,  that  she 
herself  was  not  good.  She  had  never  seen  him  dancing 
before;  and  the  thought  came  to  her  head  that  perhaps  he 
danced  that  way  always. 

Then  Pani  Aneta  repeated,  "  Dost  know  how  I  discover 
when  Yozio  is  beginning  to  play  pranks?" 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  465 

"How?"  inquired  Marynia,  with  more  liveliness. 

"  I  will  teach  thee  the  method.  Here  it  is :  the  moment 
he  has  an  unclean  conscience,  he  puts  suspicion  on  others, 
and  shares  these  suspicions  with  me,  so  as  to  turn  atten- 
tion from  himself.  Dear  Yozio!  that  is  their  method. 
How  they  lie,  even  the  best  of  them ! " 

When  she  had  said  this,  she  went  away,  with  the  convic- 
tion that  on  the  society  chessboard  she  had  made  a  very 
clever  move;  and  it  was  clever.  In  Marynia's  head  a 
kind  of  chaos  now  rose;  she  knew  not  what  to  think  at 
last  of  all  this.  Great  physical  weariness  seized  her  also. 
"I  am  not  well,"  said  she  to  herself;  "I  am  excited,  and 
God  knows  what  may  seem  to  me."  And  the  feeling  of 
weariness  increased  in  her  every  moment.  That  whole 
evening  seemed  a  fever  dream.  Pan  Stanislav  had  men- 
tioned Fani  Aneta  as  a  faith-breaking  woman ;  Pani  Aneta 
had  said  the  same  of  all  husbands.  Pan  Stanislav  had 
been  looking  with  dishonest  eyes  on  Pani  Mashko,  and 
Pani  Aneta  had  said  thou  to  Kopovski.  To  this  was 
added  the  dancing  couples,  the  monotonous  tact  of  the 
waltz,  the  heads  of  the  lovers,  and  finally,  a  storm,  which 
was  heard  out  of  doors.  What  a  mixture  of  impressions! 
what  a  phantasmagoria!  "  I  am  not  well,"  repeated  Marynia 
in  her  mind.  But  she  felt  also  that  peace  was  leaving  her, 
and  that  this  was  the  unhappy  evening  of  her  life.  She 
wished  greatly  to  go  home,  but,  as  if  to  spite  her,  there 
was  a  pouring  rain.  "Let  us  go  home!  let  us  go  home!" 
If  "  Stas  "  should  say  some  good  and  cordial  word  besides. 
Let  him  only  not  speak  of  Pani  Aneta  or  Pani  Mashko; 
let  him  speak  of  something  that  related  to  him  and  her, 
and  was  dear  to  them. 

"  Oh,  how  tired  I  am ! " 

At  that  moment  Pan  Stanislav  came  to  her;  and  at  sight 
of  her  poor,  pale  face,  he  felt  a  sudden  sympathy,  to  which 
his  heart,  kind  in  itself,  yielded  easily. 

"My  poor  dear,"  said  he,  "it  is  time  for  thee  to  go  to 
bed;  only  let  the  rain  pass  a  little.  Thou  art  not  afraid 
of  thunder? " 

"No;  sit  near  me."  , 

"The  summer  shower  will  pass  soon.     How  sleepy  thou 

art ! " 

"Perhaps  I  ought  not  to  have  come,  Stas.     I  have  great 

He  had  a  conscience  which  was  not  too  clear,  and  was 

so 


466  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

angry  at  himself.  But  it  had  not  come  to  his  mind  tliat 
what  she  was  saying  of  rest  might  relate  to  him  and  iiis 
attempts  and  conduct  with  Fani  Mashko;  but  he  felt  all  at 
once  that  if  she  had  suspected,  her  peace  would  be  ruined 
forever  through  his  fault,  and  since  he  was  not  a  spoiled 
man,  fear  and  compunction  possessed  him, 

"To  the  deuce  with  all  dances!  "  said  he.  "I  will  stay 
at  home,  and  take  care  of  that  which  belongs  to  me." 

And  he  said  this  so  sincerely  that  a  shadow  of  doubt 
could  not  pass  through  her  head,  for  she  knew  him  per- 
fectly.    Hence  a  feeling  of  immense  relief  came  upon  her. 

"  When  thou  art  with  me,"  said  she,  '•  I  feel  less  tired 
right  away.  A  moment  ago  I  felt  ill  somehow.  Aneta 
sat  near  me;  but  what  can  I  care  for  her?  When  out  of 
health,  one  needs  a  person  who  is  near,  who  is  one's  own, 
and  reliable.  Perhaps  thou  wilt  scold  me  for  what  I  say, 
since  it  is  strange  to  say  such  things  at  a  party,  among 
strangers,  and  so  long  after  marriage.  I  understand  my- 
self that  it  is  somewhat  strange ;  but  I  need  thee  really, 
for  I  love  thee  much." 

"And  I  love  thee,  dear  being,"  answered  Pan  Stanislav 
who  felt  then  that  love  for  her  could  alone  be  honest  and 
peaceful. 

Meanwhile  the  rain  decreased;  but  there  was  lightning 
yet,  so  that  the  windows  of  the  villa  were  bright  blue 
every  moment.  Bigiel,  who,  after  the  dancing,  had  played 
a  prelude  of  Chopin's,  was  talking  now  with  Lineta  and 
Pan  Ignas  about  music,  and,  defending  his  idea  firmly, 
said,  — 

"That  Bukatski  invented  various  kinds  and  types  of 
women;  and  I  have  my  musical  criterion.  There  are 
women  who  love  music  with  their  souls,  and  there  are 
others  who  love  it  with  their  skin,  —  these  last  I  fear." 

A  quarter  of  an  hour  later  the  short  summer  storm  had 
passed  by,  and  the  sky  had  cleared  perfectly;  the  guests 
began  to  prepare  for  home.  But  Zavilovski  remained 
longer  than  others,  so  that  he  might  be  the  last  to  say 
good-night  to  Lineta. 

Out  of  fear  for  Marynia,  Pan  Stanislav  gave  command 
to  drive  the  carriage  at  a  walk.  The  picture  of  her  hus- 
band dancing  with  Pani  Mashko  was  moving  in  her  tortured 
head  continually.  Pani  Aneta's  words,  "Oh,  how  they 
lie!  even  the  best  of  them,"  were  sounding  in  her  ears. 
But  Pan  Stanislav  supported  her  meanwhile  with  his  arm, 


CHILDREN   OF  THE   SOIL.  467 

and  held  lier  resting  against  him  during  the  whole  way; 
hence  her  disquiet  disappeared  gradually.  She  wished 
from  her  soul  to  put  some  kind  of  question  to  him,  from 
which  he  might  suspect  her  fears  and  pacify  her.  But 
after  a  while  she  thought:  "If  he  did  not  love  me,  he 
would  not  show  anxiety;  he  could  be  ci-uel  more  readily 
than  pretend.  I  will  not  ask  him  to-day  about  anything." 
Pan  Stanislav,  on  his  part,  evidently  under  the  influence 
of  the  thought  which  moved  in  his  head,  and  under  the 
impression  that  she  alone  might  be  his  right  love  and  true 
happiness,  bent  down  and  kissed  her  face  lightly. 

"I  will  not  ask  him  about  anything  to-morrow  either," 
thought  ]VIarynia,  resting  her  head  on  his  shoulder.  And 
after  a  while  she  thought  again,  "I  will  never  tell  him 
anything."  And  fatigue,  both  physical  and  mental,  began 
to  overpower  her,  so  that  before  they  reached  home  her 
eyes  were  closed,  and  she  had  fallen  asleep  on  his  arm. 

Pani  Bronich  was  sitting,  meanwhile,  in  the  drawing- 
room,  looking  toward  the  glass  door  of  the  balcony,  tc 
which  the  betrothed  had  gone  out  for  a  moment  to  breathe 
the  air  freshened  by  rain,  and  say  good-itight  to  each  other 
without  witnesses.  After  the  storm  the  night  had  become 
very  clear,  giving  out  the  odor  of  wet  leaves ;  it  was  full 
of  stars,  which  were  as  if  they  had  bathed  in  the  rain,  and 
were  smiling  through  tears.  The  two  young  people  stood 
some  time  in  silence,  and  then  began  to  say  that  they  loved 
each  other  with  all  their  souls;  and  at  last  Pan  Ignas 
stretched  forth  his  hand,  on  which  a  ring  was  glittering, 
and  said,  — 

"My  greatly  beloved!  I  look  at  this  ring,  and  cannot 
look  at  it  sufficiently.  To  this  moment  it  has  seemed  to 
me  that  all  this  is  a  dream,  and  only  now  do  I  dare  to 
think  that  thou  wilt  be  mine  really." 

Then  Lineta  placed  the  palm  of  her  hand  on  his,  so  that 
the  two  rings  were  side  by  side;  and  she  said,  with  a  voice 
of  dreamy  exaltation,  — 

"Yes;  the  former  Lineta  is  no  longer  in  existence,  only 
thy  betrothed.  Now  we  must  belong  with  our  whole  lives 
to  each  other;  and  it  is  a  marvel  to  me  that  there  sliould 
be  such  power  in  these  little  rings,  as  if  something  holy 

were  in  them."  ,   ,         •  i 

Pan  Ignas's  heart  was  overflowing  with  happiness,  calm, 

1.11(1  swppItips^ 

"Yes,"  said  he;    "for  in  the  ring  is  the  soul,  which 


468  CHILDREN  OF  THE   SOIL. 

yields  itself,  and  in  return  receives  another.  In  such  a 
golden  promise  is  ingrafted  everything  which  in  a  man 
says,  *  I  wish,  I  love,  and  promise.'" 

Lineta  repeated  like  a  faint  echo,  "  I  wish,  I  love,  and 
promise." 

Next  he  embraced  her  and  held  her  long  at  his  breast, 
and  then  began  to  take  farewell.  But,  borne  away  by  the 
might  of  love  and  the  impulse  of  his  soul,  he  made  of  that 
farewell  a  sort  of  religious  act  of  adoration  and  honor. 
So  he  gave  good-night  to  those  blessed  hands  which  had 
given  him  so  much  happiness,  and  good-night  to  that  heart 
which  loved  him,  and  good-night  to  the  lips  Avhich  had 
confessed  love,  and  good-night  to  the  clear  eyes  through 
which  mutuality  gazed  forth  at  the  poet ;  and  at  last  the 
soul  went  out  of  him,  and  changed  itself,  as  it  were,  into 
a  shining  circle,  around  that  head  which  was  dearest  in  the 
world  and  worshipped. 

"Good-night!" 

After  a  while  Pani  Bronich  and  Lineta  were  alone  in  the 
drawing-room. 

"Art  wearied,  child?"  inquired  Pani  Bronich,  looking 
at  Lineta's  face,  which  was  as  if  roused  from  sleep. 

And  Lineta  answered,  — 

"Ah,  aunt,  I  am  returning  from  the  stars,  and  that's 
buch  a  long  journey."  . 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  ,        469 


CHAPTER  L. 

Pan  Ignas  could  say  to  himself  that  sometimes  a  lucky 
star  shines  even  for  poets.  It  is  true  that  since  the  day 
of  his  betrothal  to  Liueta  it  had  occurred  to  him  frequently 
that  there  would  be  need  now  to  think  of  means  to  furnish 
a  house,  and  meet  the  expenses,  as  well  of  a  marriage  as 
a  wedding;  but,  being  first  of  all  in  love,  and  not  having 
in  general  a  clear  understanding  of  such  matters,  he  lepre- 
sented  all  this  to  himself  only  as  some  kind  of  new  diffi- 
culty t(j  be  overcome.  He  had  conquered  so  many  of  these 
in  his  life  that,  trusting  in  his  power,  he  thought  that  he 
would  conquer  this  too;  but  he  had  not  thought  over  the 
means  so  far. 

Others,  however,  were  thinking  for  him.  Old  Zavi- 
lovski,  in  whom,  with  all  his  esteem  for  geniuses,  nothing 
could  shake  the  belief  that  every  poet  must  have  "fiu,  tiu" 
in  his  head,  invited  Pan  Stanislav  to  a  personal  consulta- 
tion, and  said,  — 

"  I  will  say  openly  that  this  youngster  has  pleased  me, 
though  his  father  was,  with  permission,  a  great  roisterer; 
nothing  for  him  but  cards  and  women  and  horses.  He 
came  to  grief  in  his  time.  But  the  son  is  not  like  the 
father ;  he  has  brought  to  the  name  not  discredit,  but  honor. 
Well,  others  have  not  accustomed  me  much  to  this;  but  the 
Lord  God  grant  that  I  shall  not  forget  the  man.  I  should 
like,  however,  to  do  something  for  him  at  once;  for  though 
a  distant  relative,  he  is  a  relative,  and  the  name  is  the 
same,  — that  is  the  main  thing." 

"We  have  been  thinking  of  this,"  said  Pan  Stanislav, 
"but  the  thing  is  difficult.  If  aid  be  spoken  of,  he  is  so 
sensitive  that  one  may  make  the  impatient  fellow  angry." 

"Indeed!  How  stubborn  he  is!"  said  Zavilovski,  with 
evident  pleasure. 

"  True !  He  has  kept  books  and  written  letters  for  our 
house  a  short  time.  But  we  have  conceived  a  real  liking  for 
him;  therefore  my  partner  and  I  have  offered  him  credit 
ourselves.  '  Take  a  few  thousand  rubles,'  said  we,  *  for  ex- 
penses and  furnishing  a  house,  and  return  them  to  us  in 
the  course  of  three  years  from  thy  salary.'      He  would 


470  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

not:  he  said  that  he  had  trust  in  his  betroth.ed;  she  would 
♦  accommodate  herself  to  him,  he  felt  sure,  and  he  did  not 
want  the  money.  Osnovski,  too,  wanted  to  offer  aid.  but 
we  stopped  him,  knowing  that  it  was  useless.  Your  pro- 
ject will  be  difficult." 

"]Maybe,  then,  he  has  something  ?" 

"He  has,  and  he  hasn't.  We  have  just  learned  that 
some  thousands  of  rubles  came  to  him  from  his  mother; 
but  with  the  interest  he  supports  his  father  in  an  insane 
asylum,  and  considers  the  capital  as  inviolable.  That  he 
takes  nothing  from  it,  is  certain,  for  before  he  began  with 
us,  he  suffered  such  poverty  that  he  was  simply  dying  of 
hunger,  and  he  did  n't  touch  a  copper.  Such  is  his  char- 
acter. And  3'ou  will  understand  why  we  esteem  him.  He 
is  writing  something,  it  seems,  and  thinks  that  he  will 
meet  the  expense  of  first  housekeeping  with  it.  Maybe  he 
will;  his  name  means  much  at  present." 

"  Pears  on  willows !  "  said  Pan  Zavilovski.  "  You  tell 
me  that  his  name  means  much  —  does  it?  But  that 's  pears 
on  willows ! " 

"Not  necessarily;  only  it  will  not  come  quickly." 

"  Well,  he  was  ceremonious  with  you  because  you  were 
strangers,  but  I  am  a  relative." 

"We  are  strangers,  but  older  acquaintances  than  you, 
and  we  know  him  better." 

Zavilovski,  unaccustomed  to  contradiction,  began  to 
move  his  white  mustaches,  and  pant  from  displeasure, 
For  the  first  time  in  his  life  he  had  to  trouble  himself 
about  the  question,  would  the  man  to  whom  he  wished  to 
give  money  be  pleased  to  accept  it?  This  astonished, 
pleased,  and  angered  him  all  at  once;  he  recalled,  then, 
something  which  he  did  not  mention  to  Pan  Stanislav,  and 
this  was  it,  —  how  many  times  had  he  paid  notes  for  the 
father  of  the  young  man?  —  and  what  notes!  But  see,  the 
apple  has  fallen  so  far  from  the  tree  that  now  there  is  a 
new  and  unexpected  trouble. 

"Well,"  said  he,  after  a  while,  "may  the  merciful  God 
grant  the  young  generation  to  change;  for  now,  0  devil,  do 
not  go  even  near  them !  " 

Here  his  face  grew  bright  all  at  once  with  an  immense 
honest  pleasure.  The  inexhaustible  optimism,  lying  at 
the  bottom  of  his  soul,  when  it  found  a  real  cause  to 
justify  itself,  filled  his  heart  with  glad  visions. 

"Bite  him  now,  lord  devil,"  said  he,  "for  the  beast  is 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  471 

as  if  of  stone!  — a  capable  rascal!  resolute  in  work,  and 
character;  that  is  what  it  is,  —  character." 

Here  he  stared,  and,  shaking  his  head,  fixed  his  lips  as 
a  sign  of  wonder,  as  if  to  whistle,  and  after  a  moment, 
added, — 

"Indeed!  and  that  in  a  noble!  As  God  lives,  I  didn't 
expect  it." 

But  talking  in  this  way  he  deceived  himself,  for  all  bis 
life  he  had  expected  everything. 

"It  seems,  then,"  said  Pan  Stanislav,  "that  there  is  no 
help  but  this,  Panna  Castelli  must  accommodate  herself 
to  him." 

But  the  old  noble  made  a  wry  face  all  at  once.  "  That  is 
talk!  tfu!  Will  she  accommodate,  or  will  she  not?  the 
deuce  knows  her!  She  is  young;  and  as  she  is  young, 
maybe  she  is  ready  for  everything;  but  who  will  give 
assurance,  and  for  how  long?  Besides,  there  is  her  aunt 
and  that  accommodating  dead  man ;  when  he  shouts  from 
under  the  ground,  go  and  talk  with  him.  As  God  is  true,  I 
esteem  people  who  have  acquired  property;  but  when 
any  one  has  crept  out  of  a  cottage,  and  not  a  mansion,  and 
pretends  that  he  lived  always  in  palaces,  he  wants  palaces. 
And  so  it  was  with  old  Brcnich.  Neither  of  them  was 
lacking  in  vanity;  the  young  woman  was  reared  in  such  a 
school,  —  nothing  but  comfort  and  abundance.  Ignas  does 
not  know  them  in  that  respect  —  and  you  do  not.  Such  a 
woman  as  this  "  (here  he  pointed  to  his  daughter)  "would 
go  to  a  garret  even,  once  she  had  given  her  word;  but  that 
other  one,  she  may  not  go  easily." 

"I  do  not  know  them,"  said  Pan  Stanislav,  "though  I 
have  heard  various  reports;  but  through  good-will  for 
Ignas,  I  should  like  to  know  definitely  what  to  think  of 
them." 

"  What  to  think  of  them !  I  have  known  them  a  long  time, 
and  I,  too,  do  not  know  much.  Well,  judging  from  what- 
Bronich  herself  says,  the  women  are  saints,  the  most 
worthy.  And  pious!  Ha!  they  should  be  canonized 
while  living!  But  you  see  it  is  this  way,  — there  are 
women  among  us  who  bear  God  and  the  commands  of  faith 
in  their  hearts,  and  there  are  such,  too,  who  make  of  our 
Catholic  religion.  Catholic  amusement;  and  such  talk  the 
loudest,  and  grow  up  where  no  one  .sowed  them.  That's 
what  the  case  is." 

"Ah,  how  truly  you  have  spoken!"  said  Pan  Stanislav. 


472  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

"Well,  is  it  not  true?"  inquired  Zavilovski.  "I  have 
seen  various  things  in  life;  but  let  us  return  to  the  ques- 
tion. Have  you  any  method  to  make  this  wild  cat  accept 
aid,  or  not?" 

"It  is  necessary  to  think  of  something;  but  at  this 
moment  nothing  occurs  to  me." 

Thereupon  Panna  Helena  Zavilovski,  who,  occupied 
with  embroidery  on  canvas,  was  silent  up  to  that  moment 
as  if  not  hearing  the  conversation,  raised  her  steel  cold 
eyes  suddenly,  and  said, — 

"There  is  a  very  simple  method." 

The  old  noble  looked  at  her. 

"See,  she  has  found  it!     What  is  this  simple  method?" 

"Let  papa  deposit  sufficient  capital  for  Pan  Ignas's 
father." 

"  It  would  be  better  for  thee  not  to  give  that  advice ;  I 
have  done  enough  in  my  life  for  Pan  Ignas's  father,  though 
I  had  no  wish  to  see  him,  and  prefer  now  to  do  something 
for  Pan  Ignas  himself." 

"I  know;  but  if  his  father  has  an  income  assured  till 
his  death,  Pan  Ignas  will  be  able  to  command  that  which 
he  has  from  his  mother," 

"As  God  is  dear  to  me,  that  is  true!"  said  Pan  Zavi- 
lovski, with  astonishment.  "See!  we  have  both  been  break- 
ing our  heads  for  nothing,  and  she  has  discovered  it.  True, 
as  God  is  dear  to  me ! " 

"You  are  perfectly  right,"  said  Pan  Stanislav,  looking 
at  her  with  curiosity. 

But  she  had  inclined  to  the  embroidery  her  face,  which 
was  without  expression  of  interest,  and,  as  it  were,  faded 
before  its  time. 

The  news  of  such  a  turn  of  affairs  pleased  Marynia  and 
Pani  Bigiel  greatly,  and  gave  at  the  same  time  occasion  to 
speak  of  Panna  Helena.  Formerly  she  was  considered  a 
cold  young  lady,  who  placed  form  above  everything;  but 
it  was  said  that  later  a  way  was  broken  through  that  cold- 
ness to  her  heart  by  great  feeling,  which,  turning  into  a 
tragedy,  turned  also  that  society  young  lady  into  a  strange 
woman,  separated  from  people,  confined  to  herself,  jealous 
of  her  suffering.  Some  exalted  her  great  benevolence;  but 
if  she  was  really  benevolent,  she  did  her  good  work  so 
secretly  that  no  one  knew  anything  definite.  It  was  diffi- 
cult, also,  for  any  one  to  approach  her,  for  her  indifference 
was  greatly  like  pride.     Men  declared  that  in  her  manner 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  473 

there  was  something  simply  contemptuous,  just  as  if  she 
could  not  forgive  them  for  living. 

Pan  Iguas  had  been  in  Prytulov,  and  returned  only  the 
week  following  the  old  man's  talk  with  Pan  Stanislav, — 
that  is,  when  the  noble  had  deposited  in  the  name  of  his 
father  twice  the  amount  of  capital  which  had  served  so  far 
to  pay  his  expenses  at  the  asylum.  When  he  learned  of 
this,  Pan  Ignas  rushed  off  to  thank  the  old  man,  and  to 
save  himself  from  accepting  it;  but  Zavilovski,  feeling  firm 
ground  under  his  feet,  grumbled  him  out  of  his  position. 

"But  what  hast  thou  to  say?"  asked  he.  "I  have  done 
nothing  for  thee;  I  have  given  thee  nothing.  Thou  hast  no 
right  to  receive  or  not  to  receive;  and  that  it  pleased  me  to 
go  to  the  aid  of  a  sick  relative  is  a  kind  of  act  permitted 
to  every  man." 

In  fact,  there  was  nothing  to  answer;  hence  the  matter 
ended  in  embraces  and  emotion,  in  which  these  two  men, 
strangers  a  short  time  before,  felt  that  they  were  real 
relatives. 

Even  PannarHelena  herself  showed  "  Pan  Tgnas  "  good- 
will. 'As  to  old  Zavilovski,  he,  grieving  in  secret  over 
this,  that  he  had  no  son,  took  to  loving  the  young  man 
heartily.  A  week  later,  Pani  Bronich,  who  had  visited 
Warsaw  on  some  little  business,  went  to  Yasmen  to  learn 
what  was  to  be  heard  about  the  gout,  and  to  speak  of  the 
young  couple.  When  she  repeated  a  number  of  times,  to 
the  greater  praise  of  "Nitechka,"  that  she  was  marrying 
a  man  without  property,  the  old  noble  grew  impatient,  and 
cried.  — 

"  What  do  you  say  to  me  ?  God  knows  who  makes  the 
better  match,  even  with  regard  to  property,  omitting  men- 
tion of  other  things." 

And  Pani  Bronich,  who  moreover  endured  all  from  the 
old  truth-teller,  endured  smoothly  even  the  mention  of 
"  other  things."  :N"ay,  a  half  an  hour  later,  she  spread  the 
wings  of  her  imagination  sufficiently.  Visiting  the  Pola- 
nyetskis  on  the  way,  she  told  them  that  Pan  Zavilovski 
had  given  her  a  formal  promise  to  make  an  entail  for 
"that  dear,  dear  Ignas,"  with  an  irrepressible  motherly 
feeling  that  at  times  he  took  the  place  of  Lolo  in  her  heart. 
Finally,  she  expressed  the  firm  conviction  that  J-eodor 
would  have  loved  him  no  less  than  she,  and  that  thereoy 
sorrow  for  Lolo  would  have  been  less  painful  to  both  oi 
them. 


474  CHILDREN  OF   THE  SOIL. 

Pan  Ignas  did  not  know  that  he  had  taken  the  place  of 
Lolo  in  Pani  Bronich's  heart,  nor  did  he  know  of  the  entail 
discovered  for  him,  but  he  noticed  that  his  relations  with 
people  had  begun  already  to  change.  The  news  of  that 
entail  must  have  spread  through  the  city  with  lightning- 
like swiftness^  for  his  acquaintances  greeted  him  in  some 
fashion  differently ;  and  even  his  colleagues  of  the  bureau, 
honest  people,  began  to  be  less  familiar.  When  he  returned 
from  Prytulov,  he  had  to  visit  all  persons  who  had  been 
present  at  the  betrothal  party  at  the  Osnovskis' ;  and  the 
quickness  with  which  the  visit  was  returned  by  such  a  man 
as  Mashko,  for  example,  testified  also  to  the  change  in  his 
relations.  In  the  first  period  of  their  acquaintance,  Mashko 
treated  him  somewhat  condescendingly.  Now  he  had  not 
ceased,  it  is  true,  to  be  patronizing,  but  there  was  so  much 
kindness  and  friendly  confidence  in  his  manner,  such  a 
feeling  for  poetry  even.  No  !  Mashko  had  nothing  against 
poetry ;  he  would  have  preferred,  perhaps,  if  Pan  Ignas's 
verses  were  more  in  the  spirit  of  safely  thinking  people ; 
but  in  general  he  was  reconciled  to  the  existence  of  poetry, 
and  even  praised  it.  His  favorable  inclination  -both  to 
poetry  and  the  poet  were  evident  from  his  look,  his  smile, 
and  the  frequent  repetition,  "  but  of  course,  —  of  course, 
—  but  very  !  '*  Pan  Ignas,  who  was  in  many  regards 
naive,  but  at  the  same  exceptionally  intelligent,  still  un- 
derstood that  in  all  this  there  was  some  pretence,  hence  he 
thought :  "  Why  does  this,  as  it  were,  thinking  man  pose  in 
such  style  that  it  is  evident  ?  " 

And  that  same  day  he  raised  this  question  in  a  talk  with 
the  Polanyetskis ;  at  their  house  it  was  that  he  had  made 
Mashko's  acquaintance. 

"  Were  I  to  pose,"  said  he,  "  I  should  try  so  to  pose  that 
people  could  not  recognize  it." 

"Those  who  pose,"  answered  Pan  Stanislav,  "count  on 
this,  that,  though  people  notice  the  posing,  still,  through 
slothfulness  or  a  lack  of  civic  courage,  they  will  agree  to 
that  which  the  pose  is  intended  to  express.  Moreover,  the 
thing  is  difficult.  Have  you  noticed  that  women  who  use 
rouge  lose  gradually  the  sense  of  measure  ?  It  is  the 
same  with  posing.  The  most  intelligent  lose  this  sense  of 
measure." 

"  True,"  answered  Pan  Ignas,  "  as  it  is  true  also  that  one 
can  reproach  people  with  everything." 

**  As  to  Mashko,"  continued  Pan  Stanislav,  "  he  knows^ 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  476 

besides,  that  you  are  marrying  a  lady  who  passes  for 
wealthy ;  he  knows  that  you  are  a  favorite  with  Pan  Zavi- 
lovski,  and  perhaps  lie  would  like  to  approach  him  through 
your  favor.  Mashko  must  think  of  the  future ;  for  they 
tell  me  that  the  aetiou  to  break  the  will,  on  which  his  fate 
depends,  is  not  very  favorable." 

Such  was  the  case  really.  The  young  advocate  who 
had  appeared  in  defence  of  the  will  had  shown  much 
energy,  adroitness,  and  persistence. 

Here  ceased  their  conversation  about  Mashko,  for  Pani 
Marynia  had  begun  to  inquire  about  Prytulov  and  its  inhab- 
itants,—  a  subject  which  for  Pan  Ignas  was  inexhaustible. 
In  his  expressive  narrative,  the  residence  at  Prytulov  ap- 
peared, with  its  lindens  along  the  road,  then  its  shady 
garden,  ponds,  reeds,  alders,  and  on  the  horizon  a  belt  of 
pine-wood.  Kremen,  which  had  faded  in  Marynia's  memory, 
stood  before  her  now  as  if  present ;  and,  in  that  momentary 
revival  of  homesickness,  she  thought  that  sometime  she 
would  beg  '"'Stas"  to  take  her  even  to  Vantory,  to  that 
little  church  in  which  she  was  baptized,  and  where  her 
mother  was  buried.  Maybe  Pan  Stanislav  remembered 
Kremen  at  that  moment,  for,  waving  his  hand,  he  said,  — 

"It  is  always  the  same  in  the  country.  I  remember 
Bukatski's  statement,  that  he  loved  the  country  passion- 
ately, but  on  condition  'that  there  should  be  a  perfect 
cook  in  the  house,  a  big  library,  beautiful  and  intelligent 
women,  and  no  obligation  to  stay  longer  than  two  days  in 
a  twelvemonth.'     And  I  understand  him." 

"But  still,"  said  Marynia,  "it  is  thy  wish  to  have  a 
piece  of  land  of  thy  own  near  the  city." 

"  To  live  in  our  own  place  in  summer,  and  not  with  the 
Bigiels,  as  we  must  this  year." 

"But  in  me,"  said  Pan  Ignas,  "certain  field  instincts 
revive  the  moment  I  am  in  the  country.  For  that  matter, 
my  betrothed  does  not  like  the  city,  and  that  is  enough 
for  me." 

"  Does  Lineta  dislike  the  city  really  ?  "  inquired  Ma- 
rynia, with  interest. 

"  Yes,  for  she  is  a  born  artist.  T  gaze  on  nature  too,  and 
feel  it ;  but  she  shows  me  things  which  I  should  not  notice 
myself.  A  couple  of  days  ago,  we  all  went  into  the  forest, 
where  she  showed  me  ferns  in  the  sun,  for  instance.  Ihey 
are  so  delicate !  She  taught  me  also  that  the  trunks  of 
pine-trees,  especially  in  the  evening  light,  have  a  violet 


476  CHILDREN  OF  THE   SOIL. 

tone.  She  opens  ray  eyes  to  colors  which  I  have  not  seen 
hitherto,  and,  like  a  kind  of  enchantress  going  through  the 
forest,  discloses  new  worlds  to  me." 

Pan  Stanislav  thought  that  all  this  might  be  a  proof  of 
artistic  sense,  but  also  it  might  be  an  expression  of  the 
fashion,  and  of  that  universal  love  for  painting  color  which 
people  talk  into  themselves,  and  in  which  any  young  lady 
at  present  may  be  occupied,  not  from  love  of  art,  but  for 
show.  He  had  not  occupied  himself  with  painting ;  but  he 
noticed  that,  for  society  geese,  it  had  become  of  late  a 
merchandise,  exhibited  willingly  in  Vanity  Fair,  or,  in  other 
words,  a  means  to  show  artistic  culture  and  an  artistic 
soul. 

But  he  kept  these  thoughts  to  himself;  and  Pan  Ignas 
talked  on, — 

"  Besides,  she  loves  village  children  immensely.  She 
says  that  they  are  such  perfect  models,  and  less  vulgarized 
than  the  little  Italians.  When  there  is  good  weather,  we 
are  all  day  in  the  fresh  air,  and  we  have  become  sunburnt, 
both  of  us.  I  am  learning  to  play  tennis,  and  make  great 
progress.  It  is  very  easy,  but  goes  hard  at  first.  Osnovski 
plays  passionately,  so  as  not  to  grow  fat.  It  is  difficult  to 
tell  what  a  kind  and  high-minded  person  that  man  is." 

Pan  Stanislav,  who  during  his  stay  in  Belgium  had 
played  tennis  no  less  passionately  than  Osnovski,  began  to 
boast  of  his  skill,  and  said,  — 

"  If  I  had  been  there,  I  should  have  shown  you  how  to 
play  tennis." 

"Me  you  might,"  answered  Pan  Ignas;  "but  they  play 
perfectly,  especially  Kopovski." 

"  Ah,  is  Kopovski  in  Prytulov  ?  "  asked  Pan  Stanislav. 

"  He  is,"  said  Pan  Ignas. 

And  suddenly  they  looked  into  each  other's  eyes.  In  one 
instant  each  divined  that  the  other  knew  something; 
and  they  stopped  talking.  A  moment  of  silence  and  even  of 
awkwardness  ensued,  for  Pani  INfarynia  blushed  unexpect- 
edly; and  not  being  able  to  hide  this,  she  blushed  still 
more  deeply. 

Pan  Ignas,  who  had  thought  that  he  was  the  exclusive 
possessor  of  the  secret,  was  astonished  at  seeing  her  blush, 
and  was  confused  too  ;  then,  wishing  to  cover  the  confusion 
with  talk,  he  went  on  hurriedly,  — 

"  Yes ;  Kopovski  is  in  Prytulov.  Osnovski  invited  him, 
so  that  Lineta  might  finish  his  portraits,  for  later  on  there 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  477 

will  be  no  time.  Besides,  there  is  a  relative  of  Osnovski's 
there  also,  Panna  Eatkovski;  and  I  think  that  Kopovski  is 
courting  her.  She  is  a  pleasing  and  quiet  young  lady.  In 
August  we  are  all  going  to  Scheveningen,  for  those  ladies 
do  not  like  Ostend.  If  Pan  Zavilovski  had  not  come  with 
such  cordial  assistance  to  ray  father,  I  should  not  have 
been  able  to  go;  but  now  my  hands  are  free." 

When  he  had  said  this,  he  began  to  talk  with  Pan  Stan- 
islav  about  his  position  in  the  counting-house,  which  he  did 
not  wish  to  leave.  On  the  contrary,  he  asked  a  leave  of 
some  months,  in  view  of  exceptional  circumstances;  then 
he  took  farewell  and  went  out,  for  he  was  in  a  hurry  to 
write  to  his  betrothed.  In  a  couple  of  days  he  was  to  go 
to  Prytulov  again  ;  but  meanwhile  he  wrote  sometimes  even 
twice  a  day.  And  on  the  way  to  his  lodgings  he  composed 
to  himself  the  words  of  the  letter,  for  he  knew  that  Lineta 
would  read  it  in  company  with  JPani  Bronich ;  that  both 
would  seek  in  it  not  only  heart  but  wings ;  and  that  the 
most  beautiful  passages  would  be  read  in  secret  to  Pani 
Aneta,  Pan  Osnovski,  and  even  Panna  Eatkovski.  But  he 
did  not  take  this  ill  of  his  beloved  "Nitechka," — nay,  he 
was  thankful  to  her  that  she  was  proud  of  him  ;  and  he  used 
all  his  power  to  answer  to  her  lofty  idea  of  him.  The 
thought  did  not  anger  him  either,  that  people  would  know 
how  he  loved  her.  "  Let  them  know  that  she  was  loved  as 
no  one  else  in  the  world." 

He  thought  then  a  little  of  Marynia  too.  Her  blushes 
moved  him,  for  he  saw  in  them  a  proof  of  a  most  pure 
nature,  which  not  only  was  incapable  of  evil  itself,  but 
which  was  even  ashamed,  offended,  and  alarmed  by  evil  in 
others.  And,  comparing  her  with  Pani  Aneta,  he  under- 
stood what  a  precipice  divided  those  women,  apparently- 
near  each  other  by  social  position  and  mental  level. 

When  Pan  Ignas  had  gone,  Pan  Stanislav  said,  — 

"Hast  thou  seen  that  Zavilovski  must  have  noticed 
something  ?  Now  I  have  no  doubt.  That  Osnovski  is  blind, 
blind ! " 

"  Just  his  blindness  should  restrain  and  hold  her  back," 
said  Marynia.     "  That  would  be  terrible." 

"That  is  not  'would  be,'  it  is  terrible.  Thou  seest, 
noble  souls  pay  for  confidence  with  gratitude ;  mean  ones, 
with  contempt." 


478  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 


CHAPTER  LI. 

These  words  were  a  great  consolation  to  Marynia,  for, 
remembering  her  previous  alarms,  she  thought  at  once  that 
Pan  Stanislav  would  not  have  said  anything  like  them  had 
he  been  capable  of  betraying  her  confidence ;  for  she  did 
not  suppose  that  a  man  can  have  one  measure  for  his 
neighbors  and  another  for  himself,  and  that  in  life  these 
different  measures  meet  at  every  step.  She  said  to  herself 
that  to  restrain  her  husband  from  everything,  it  was  enough 
to  show  perfect  trust  in  him  ;  and  she  thought  now  with  less 
fear  of  the  nearness  of  Pani  Kraslavski's  country  house  to 
the  house  of  the  Bigiels,  in  which  she  and  her  husband 
were  to  pass  the  summer.  It  was  easy  to  divine  that  Pani 
Mashko,  who  had  moved  already  into  her  mother's  house, 
would  be  a  frequent  guest  at  the  Bigiels'  from  very  tedium. 
Mashko  did  not  send  her  to  Kremen,  for  he  did  not  wish  to 
be  separated  from  her  during  summer.  From  Warsaw, 
where  he  had  to  be  on  business,  it  was  easy  to  go  every  day 
to  Pani  Kraslavski's  villa,  one  hour's  ride  from  the  city 
barrier,  while  to  distant  Kremen  such  journeys  were  not 
possible.  To  Mashko,  really  in  love  with  his  wife,  her 
presence  was  requisite  to  give  him  strength,  for  trying 
times  had  come  again.  The  case  against  the  will  was  not 
lost  yet  by  any  means  ;  but  it  had  taken  a  turn  which  was 
unfavorable,  since  the  defence  was  very  vigorous.  It  had 
begun  to  drag,  so  people  began  to  doubt ;  and  for  Mashko 
doubt  approached  defeat.  His  credit,  almost  fallen  at  the 
opening  of  the  case,  had  bloomed  forth  like  an  apple-tree  in 
spring,  but  was  beginning  now  to  waver  a  second  time. 
Sledz  (the  opposing  advocate),  hostile  personally  to  Mashko, 
and  in  general  a  man  of  strong  will,  not  only  did  not  cease 
to  spread  news  of  the  evil  plight  of  his  opponent,  but  strove 
that  doubts  as  to  the  favorable  issue  of  the  will  case 
should  make  their  way  into  the  press.  A  merciless  legal 
and  personal  warfare  set  in.  Mashko  strove  with  every 
effort  to  lame  his  enemy ;  and  when  they  met,  he  bore 
himself  defiantly.  This  brought  no  advantage,  however. 
Credit  became  more  and  more  difficult ;  and  creditors, 
though   so  far  paid  regularly,  lost  confidence.     Again   a 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  479 

feverish  hunt  began  for  money,  to  stop  one  debt  with  an- 

other,  and  uphold  the  opinion  of  ready  solvency.  Mashko 
exhibited  such  intelligence  and  energy  in  this  struggle 
that,  had  it  not  been  for  the  fundamental  error  in  his  life 
relations,  he  would  have  advanced  to  fame  and  great  pros- 
perity. 

The  breaking  of  the  will  might  save  all,  but  to  break  the 
will  it  was  needful  to  wait;  meanwhile  to  mend  threads 
breaking  here  and  there  was  difficult  as  well  as  humiliating. 
It  came  to  this,  that  in  two  weeks  after  the  Polanyetskis 
had  moved  to  Bigiel's,  when  the  Mashkos  came  to  them 
with  a  visit,  Mashko  was  forced  to  ask  of  Pan  Stanislav  a 
"  friendly  service ;  "  that  is,  his  signature  to  a  note  for  a 
few  thousand  rubles. 

Pan  Stanislav  was  by  nature  an  obliging  man  and  inclined 
to  be  liberal,  but  he  had  his  theory,  which  in  money  affairs 
enjoined  on  him  to  be  difficult,  hence  he  refused  his  sig- 
nature ;  but  to  make  up  he  treated  Mashko  to  his  views  on 
money  questions  between  friends,  — 

*'  When  it  is  a  question  not  of  a  mutually  profitable 
affair,"  said  he  to  him,  "but  of  a  personal  service,  I  refuse 
on  principle  to  sign ;  but  I  will  oblige  with  ready  money 
as  far  as  an  acquaintance  or  a  friend  may  need  it  in  tem- 
porary embarrassment,  but  not  in  a  desperate  position.  In 
this  last  case  I  prefer  to  keep  my  service  till  later." 

"That  means,"  answered  Mashko,  dryly,  "that  thou  art 
giving  me  a  small  hope  of  support  when  I  am  bankrupt." 

"Xo;  it  means  that  should  a  catastrophe  come,  and 
thou  borrow  of  me,  thou  'It  be  able  to  keep  the  loan,  or 
begin  something  anew  with  that  capital.  At  present  thou 
wilt  throw  it  into  the  gulf,  with  loss  to  me,  without  profit 
to  thyself." 

Mashko  was  offended. 

"  :My  dear  friend,"  said  he,  "  thou  seest  ray  position  in  a 
worse  light  than  I  myself  see  it,  and  than  it  is  in  reality. 
It  is  merely  a  temporary  trouble,  and  a  small  one.  t 
esteem  thy  good  wishes,  but  this  very  day  I  would  not  give 
my  prospects  for  thv  actual  property.  Now  I  have  one 
other  friendly  request;  namely,  that  we  speak  no  more 
of  this."  ,  .       -, 

And  they  went  to  the  ladies,  —  Mashko  angry  at  himself 
for  having  made  the  request,  and  Pan  Stanislav  for  having 
refused  it  His  theory,  that  in  money  questions  it  was 
proper  to    be    unaccommodating,  caused   him    such  bitter 


480  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

moments  more  than  once,  not  to  mention  the  harm  which  it 
had  done  him  in  life. 

When  with  the  ladies  his  ill-humor  increased  because  of 
the  contrast  between  Pani  Mashko  and  Marynia.  To 
Mashko's  intense  disappointment  nothing  announced  that 
Pani  Mashko  was  to  be  a  mother.  On  the  contrary,  she 
preserved  all  the  slenderness  of  maiden  forms;  and  now, 
especially  in  her  muslin  summer  robes,  she  looked,  near 
Marynia,  who  was  greatly  changed  and  unwieldy,  not  only 
like  a  maiden,  but  younger  than  her  neighbor  by  some 
years.  Pan  Stanislav,  to  whom  it  had  seemed  that  the 
strange  attraction  which  she  exercised  on  him  was  over- 
come, felt  suddenly  that  it  was  not,  and  that  because  of  their 
living  near  each  other,  and  of  his  seeing  her  frequently,  he 
would  yield  more  and  more  to  her  physical  charm. 

Still  his  relations  with  his  wife  had  become  warmer 
since  Pan  Ignas's  betrothal  evening,  and  Marynia  was  in 
better  spirits  than  before ;  so  now  after  the  Mashkos  had 
gone,  she,  seeing  that  the  men  had  parted  more  coolly  than 
usual  and  that  in  general  Pan  Stanislav  was  ill-humored, 
inquired  if  they  had  not  quarrelled. 

Pan  Stanislav  had  not  the  habit  of  talking  with  her 
about  business ;  but  at  this  moment  he  was  dissatisfied  with 
himself,  and  felt  that  need  of  telling  what  troubled  his 
mind  which  a  man  who  is  somewhat  egotistical  feels  when 
he  is  sure  that  he  will  find  sympathy  in  a  heart  devoted 
to  him.     Therefore  he  said,  — 

"  I  refused  Mashko  a  loan  ;  and  I  tell  thee  sincerely  that 
it  pains  me  now  that  I  did  so.  He  has  certain  chances  of 
success  yet;  but  his  position  is  such  that  before  he  reaches 
his  object  he  may  be  ruined  by  any  obstacle.  Of  course  we 
have  never  been  in  friendship ;  I  almost  do  not  like  him. 
He  irritates,  he  angers  me ;  still  life  brings  us  together  con- 
stantly, and  he  rendered  us  once  a  great  service.  It  is  true 
that  I  have  rendered  him  services  too;  but  now  he  has  a 
knife  at  his  throat  again." 

Marynia  heard  these  words  with  pleasure,  for  she 
thought  that  if  '•  Stas "  were  really  under  the  charm  of 
Pani  Mashko,  he  would  not  have  refused  the  loan,  and 
second,  she  saw  in  his  sorrow  the  proof  of  a  good  heart. 
She  too  was  sorry  for  their  neighbor,  but  as  she  had 
brought  her  husband  hardly  any  dower,  she  did  not  venture 
to  ask  "  Stas "  directly  to  assist  Mashko,  she  merely 
inquired,  — 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  481 

"  But  dost  thou  think  that  the  loan  would  be  lost  ?  " 

"Perhaps  so,  perhaps  not,"  answered  Pan  Stanislav. 
Then  with  a  certain  boastfulness :  "  I  can  refuse.  Bigiel 
has  a  softer  heart." 

"  But  don't  say  that.  Thou  art  so  kind.  The  best  proof 
is  this,  that  the  present  matter  is  so  disagreeable  to  thee." 

"  Naturally  it  cannot  be  agreeable  to  think  that  a  man, 
though  a  stranger,  is  squirming  like  a  snake  because  of  a 
few  thousand  rubles.  I  know  what  the  question  is. 
Mashko  has  given  to-morrow  as  the  last  day  of  payment. 
Hitherto  he  has  sought  money  everywhere,  but  sought 
guardedly,  not  wishing  to  make  a  noise  and  alarm  his 
creditors  ;  and  in  straits  he  relied  on  me.  So  thou  seest, 
he  will  not  pay  to-morrow.  I  will  suppose  that  in  a  few 
days  he  will  find  money  as  much  as  he  needs ;  but  mean- 
while the  opinion  of  his  accuracy  will  be  shaken,  and  in  the 
position  in  which  he  is  anything  may  be  ruin  for  him." 

Marynia  looked  at  her  husband ;  at  last  she  said  with  a 
certain  timidity,  — 

"  And  would  this  be  really  difficult  for  thee  ?  " 

"  If  thou  wish  the  truth,  not  at  all.  I  have  even  a  check- 
book here  with  me ;  I  took  it  to  give  earnest-money,  if  I 
found  a  place  to  buy.  Oh,  interest  in  a  former  adorer 
and  sympathy  for  him  give  me  something  to  think  of," 
said  he,  laughing. 

Marynia  laughed  too,  for  she  was  glad  that  she  had 
brightened  her  husband's  face ;  but,  shaking  her  charming 
head,  she  said,  — 

"  No !  not  sympathy  for  an  adorer,  but  vile  egotism,  for 
I  think  to  myself,  are  the  two  thousand  rubles  worth  the 
sorrow  of  my  husband  ?" 

Pan  Stanislav  began  to  smooth  her  hair  with  his  hand. 

<'But  thou,"  said  he,  "art  an  honest  little  woman  to  thy 
bones." 

Then  he  said,  "Well,  now,  decide;  one,  two,  three!  to 
give?" 

She  made  no  answer,  but  began  to  wink  her  eyes  like  a 
petted  child,  as  a  sign  to  give.  Both  became  joyous  at 
once  ;  but  Pan  Stanislav  pretended  to  complain  and  mutter. 

"  See  what  it  is  to  be  under  the  slipper.  Drag  on  through 
the  night,  man,  and  beg  Pan  Mashko  to  take  thy  money, 
because  it  pleases  that  fondled  figure  there." 

And  her  heart  was  overflowing  with  delight,  simply  that 
he  called  her  a  "  fondled  figure."     All  her  former  sorrows 

31 


482  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

and  alarms  vanished  as  if  enchanted  by  those  words.  Her 
radiant  eyes  looked  at  her  husband  with  indescribable  love. 
After  a  while  she  inquired,  — 

"  Is  it  necessary  to  go  there  right  away  ?  " 

"  Of  course.  Mashko  will  go  to  the  city  at  eight  in  the 
morning,  and  be  flying  all  day." 

"  Then  give  order  to  make  Bigiel's  horse  ready." 

"  No  !  The  moon  is  shining,  and  it  is  not  far  ;  I  '11  go 
on  foot." 

Thus  saying,  he  took  farewell  of  Marynia,  and,  seizing  his 
check-book,  went  out.     On  the  road  he  thought, — 

"But  Marynia  might  be  applied  to  a  wound.  She  is 
such  a  golden  woman  that  though  at  times  a  man  might 
like  to  play  some  prank,  he  simply  has  n't  the  heart  for  it. 
God  has  given  me  a  wife  of  the  kind  of  which  there  are 
few  on  earth." 

And  he  felt  at  the  moment  that  he  loved  her  in  truth. 
He  felt  also  that  love  alone  in  itself,  as  a  mutual  attraction 
between  persons  of  different  sexes,  is  not  happiness  yet, 
and  if  ill  directed  may  be  even  a  misfortune;  but  that,  on 
the  other  hand,  the  imagination  of  people  cannot  dream 
out  a  truer  happiness  on  earth  than  great  and  honest  love 
in  marriage.  "  There  is  nothing  superior  to  that,"  said  Pan 
Stanislav  to  himself;  "and  to  think  that  it  lies  at  hand ; 
that  it  is  accessible  to  each  one  ;  that  it  is  simply  an  affair 
of  good  and  honest  will ;  and  that  people  trample  on  that 
ready  treasure  and  sacrifice  their  peace  for  disturbance, 
and  their  honor  for  dishonor." 

Thus  meditating,  he  went  to  the  villa  of  the  Mashkos, 
the  windows  of  which  were  shining  like  lanterns  on  the  dark 
ground  of  the  forest.  When  he  had  passed  through  the 
gate  to  the  yard  lighted  by  the  moon,  and  had  drawn  near 
the  porch,  he  saw,  through  the  window  of  the  room  next 
the  entrance,  Mashko  and  his  wife,  sitting  on  a  low  sofa 
formed  like  a  figure  eight,  near  which  was  a  small  table 
and  a  lamp.  Mashko  was  embracing  his  wife  with  one 
arm  ;  with  his  other  hand  he  held  her  hand,  which  he  raised 
to  his  lips,  and  then  lowered,  as  if  thanking  her.  All  at 
once  he  embraced  the  young  woman,  with  both  arms  drew 
her  toward  him,  and  inclining,  began  to  kiss  her  mouth 
passionately ;  she,  with  hands  dropped  without  control  on 
her  knees,  not  returning  his  fondling,  but  also  not  refusing, 
yielded  as  passively  as  if  she  had  been  deprived  of  blood 
and  will.     For  a  time  Pan  Stanislav  saw  only  the  top  of 


CHILDREN  OF  THE   SOIL.  483 

Mashko's  head,  his  long  side  whiskers  moving  from  the 
kissing ;  and  at  sight  of  that  the  blood  rushed  to  his  head. 
And  he  was  dashed  with  just  such  a  flood  of  desire  as 
when  looking  for  the  ribbons  of  Pani  Osnovski's  mantle 
(in  Home),  and  the  more  burning  that  it  was  strengthened 
by  a  whole  series  of  temptations.  This  purely  physical 
attraction,  surprising  to  Pan  Stanislav  himself,  and  with 
which  he  had  struggled  long,  revived  now  with  irresistible 
force.  In  a  twinkle  were  roused  in  him  the  wild  instincts 
of  the  x^riiiiitive  man,  who,  when  he  sees  the  woman 
desired  in  the  embrace  of  another,  is  enraged  and  ready 
to  fight  to  the  death  for  her  with  the  fortunate  rival. 
Together  with  desire,  jealousy  burned  him,  —  an  unjust,  a 
pitiful,  and  the  lowest  of  all  kinds  of  jealousy,  because 
purely  physical,  but  still  so  unbridled  that  he,  who  the 
moment  before  had  understood  that  only  honest  love  for  a 
wife  might  be  real  happiness,  was  ready  to  trample  that 
happiness  and  that  love,  if  he  could  trample  Mashko,  and 
seize  himself  in  his  arms  that  slender  body  of  a  woman, 
and  cover  with  kisses  that  face  of  a  puppet,  without  mind, 
and  less  beautiful  than  the  face  of  his  own  wife. 

That  sight  beyond  the  window  not  only  excited  him, 
but  he  could  not  suffer  it ;  hence  he  sprang  to  the  door  and 
pulled  the  bell  feverishly.  The  thought  that  that  sound, 
heard  on  a  sudden  in  the  silence,  would  stop  that  fondling 
of  husband  and  wife  roused  a  savage  and  malicious  delight 
in  him.  When  the  servant  opened  the  door,  Pan  Stanislav 
gave  command  to  announce  him,  and  endeavored  to  calm 
himself  and  compose  somehow  that  which  he  had  to  tell 
Mashko. 

After  a  while  ]VIashko  came  out  with  a  face  somewhat 
astonished,  — 

"  Pardon  that  I  come  so  late,  but  my  wife  scolded  me 
because  T  refused  thee  a  service ;  and  since  I  knew  that 
thou  wilt  go  early  in  the  morning,  I  have  come  to  settle  the 
business  to-night." 

On  Mashko's  face  a  secret  joy  was  reflected.  He  divined 
straightway  that  such  a  late  visit  from  hifc  neighbor  had 
relation  to  their  previous  talk ;  he  did  not  hope,  however, 
that  the  affair  would  go  so  smoothly  and  at  once.  ^^ 

"  I  beg  thee,"  said  he.     "  My  wife  is  not  sleeping  yet. 

And  he  biought  him  into  that  room  the  interior  of 
which  Pan  Stanislav  had  seen  the  minute  before.  Pam 
Mashko  was  sitting  on  the  same  sofa ;  in  her  hand  she  held 


484  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

a  book  and  a  paper-knife,  which  evidently  she  had  taken 
from  the  table  that  moment.  Her  quenched  face  seemed 
calm,  but  traces  of  the  fresh  kisses  were  evident  on  her 
cheeks  ;  her  lips  were  moist,  her  eyes  misty.  The  blood 
seethed  up  again  in  Pan  Stanislav;  and  in  spite  of  all 
efforts  to  keep  himself  indifferent,  he  so  pressed  the  hand 
given  him  that  Pani  Mashko's  lips  contracted  as  if  from 
pain. 

But  when  he  touched  her  hand,  a  shiver  ran  through  him 
from  feet  to  crown.  There  was  in  that  very  giving  of  her 
hand  something  so  passive  that  it  ran  through  his  head  in- 
voluntarily that  that  woman  was  not  capable  of  resisting  any 
man  who  had  the  courage  and  daring  to  attack  her  directly. 

Meanwhile  Mashko  said,  — 

"  Imagine  to  thyself,  we  have  both  raised  a  storm,  —  thou 
for  refusing  me  a  service,  and  I  for  requesting  it.  Thou 
hast  an  honest  wife,  but  mine  is  no  worse.  Thine  took  me 
into  her  protection,  and  mine  thee.  I  revealed  to  her 
plainly  ray  temporary  trouble,  and  she  scolded  me  for  not 
having  done  so  before.  Evidently  she  did  not  speak  to 
me  as  a  lawyer,  for  of  that  she  has  no  idea ;  but  in  the  end 
of  ends  she  said  that  Pan  Polanyetski  refused  me  justly ; 
that  one  should  give  some  security  to  a  creditor  ;  and  this 
security  she  is  ready  to  give  with  her  life  annuity,  and  in 
general  with  all  that  she  has.  I  was  just  thanking  her 
when  you  came."  Here  Mashko  laid  his  hand  on  Pan 
Stanislav's  arm. 

"  My  dear  friend,  I  agree  with  thee  that  thy  wife  is  the 
best  person  on  earth ;  and  I  agree  all  the  more  that  I  have 
fresh  proof  of  it,  on  condition,  however,  that  thou  assure 
me  that  mine  is  no  worse.  It  ought  not  to  surprise  thee, 
then,  that  I  hide  my  troubles  from  her,  for,  as  God  is  true, 
I  am  always  ready  to  share  the  good  with  such  a  beloved 
one,  but  the  evil,  especially  the  temporary,  to  keep  for 
myself;  and  if  thou  knew  her  as  I  do,  this  would  be  no 
wonder  to  thee." 

Pan  Stanislav,  who,  despite  all  the  temptation  which 
Pani  Mashko  was  for  him,  entertained  by  no  means  a  high 
opinion  of  the  woman,  and  had  not  considered  her  in  the 
least  as  capable  of  sacrifice,  thought,  — 

"She  is,  in  truth,  a  good  woman;  and  I  was  mistaken, 
or  Mashko  has  lied  to  her,  so  that  she  really  considers  his 
position  as  brilliant,  and  this  trouble  as  purely  a  passing 
one."     And  he  said  aloud  to  her,  — 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  435 

"I  am  an  accurate  man  in  business;  but  for  whom  do  vou 
hold  me,  when  you  think  that  I  would  ask  security  on 
your  property?  I  refused  simply  through  sloth,  and  I  am 
terribly  ashamed  of  it;  I  refused  to  avoid  going  at  a  given 
time  to  Warsaw  for  a  new  supply.  In  summer  a  man 
becomes  lazy  and  egotistical.  But  the  question  is  a  small 
one ;  and  to  a  man  like  your  husband,  who  is  occupied  in 
property,  such  troubles  happen  daily.  Not  infrequently 
loans  are  needed  only  because  one's  own  money  cannot  be 
raised  at  a  given  moment." 

"Just  that  has  happened  to  me,"  answered  Mashko, 
satisfied,  evidently,  that  Pan  Stanislav  had  presented 
affairs  to  his  wife  in  this  manner. 

"Mamma  occupied  herself  with  business,  therefore  I 
have  no  knowledge  of  it,"  put  in  Pani  Mashko;  "but  I 
thank  you." 

Pan  Stanislav  began  to  laugh.  "Finally,  what  do  I 
want  of  your  security?  Suppose  for  a  moment  that  you 
will  be  bankrupt,  and  I  will  suppose  so  just  because  noth- 
ing similar  threatens  you;  can  you  imagine  me  in  such 
an  event  bringing  an  action  against  you,  and  taking  your 
income?" 

"No,"  said  Pani  Mashko. 

Pan  Stanislav  raised  her  hand  to  his  lips,  but  with  all 
the  seeming  of  society  politeness;  he  pressed  his  lips  to  it 
with  all  his  force,  and  at  the  same  time  there  was  in  the 
look  that  he  gave  her  such  passion  that  no  declaration  in 
words  could  have"  said  more. 

She  did  not  wish  to  betray  that  she  understood,  though 
she  understood  well  that  the  show  of  politeness  was  for 
her  husband,  and  the  power  of  the  kiss  for  herself.  She 
understood,  also,  that  she  pleased  Pan  Stanislav,  that  her 
beauty  attracted  him ;  still  better,  however,  she  understood 
that  she  was  triumphing  over  Marynia,  of  whose  beauty, 
Avhile  still  unmarried,  she  was  jealous,  hence,  first  of  all, 
she  felt  her  self-love  deeply  satisfied.  For  that  matter  she 
had  noticed  for  a  long  time  that  Pan  Stanislav  was  ardent 
in  her  presence;  hers  was  not  a  nature  either  so  honest 
or  so  delicate  that  that  action  could  offend  or  pain  her. 
On  the  contrary,  it  roused  in  her  curiosity,  interest,  and 
vanity.  Instinct  warned  her,  it  is  true,  that  he  is  an 
insolent  man,  who,  at  a  given  moment,  is  ready  to  push 
matters  too  far,  —  and  that  thought  filled  her  at  times  with 
alarm;  but  since  nothing  similar  had  happened  yet,  the 
very  fear  had  a  charm  for  her. 


486  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

Meanwhile  she  said  to  Pan  Stanislav,  — 

"  Mamma  mentions  you  always  as  a  man  to  be  relied  on 
in  every  case." 

She  said  this  with  her  usual  thin  voice,  which  Pan 
Stanislav  had  laughed  at  before  more  than  once;  laut  now 
everything  in  her  became  more  attractive  thereby,  and 
hence,  looking  her  fixedly  in  the  eyes,  he  said,  — 

"  Think  the  same  of  me.  " 

"  Have  mutual  confidence  in  each  other, "  put  in  Mashko, 
jestingly ;  ''  but  I  will  go  to  my  study  to  prepare  what  is 
needed,  and  in  a  moment  we  will  finish  the  matter." 

Pani  Mashko  and  her  guest  were  left  alone.  On  her  face 
a  certain  trouble  was  apparent.  To  hide  this  she  began  to 
straighten  the  shade  on  the  lamp;  but  he  approached  her 
quickly,  and  began,  — 

"  I  shall  be  happy  if  you  think  the  same  of  me.  I  am 
a  man  greatly  devoted  to  you;  I  should  be  glad  to  have 
even  your  friendship.     Can  1  rely  on  it?  " 

"You  can." 

"I  thank  you." 

When  he  had  said  this,  he  extended  his  ha,nd  to  her,  for 
all  that  he  had  said  was  directed  only  to  this,  to  get  pos- 
session of  her  hand.  In  fact,  Pani  Mashko  did  not  dare  to 
refuse  it;  and  he,  seizing  it,  pressed  it  to  his  lips  a  second 
time,  but  this  time  he  did  not  stop  with  one  kiss,  — he  fell 
to  devouring  it  almost.  It  grew  dark  in  his  eyes.  A 
moment  more,  and  in  his  madness  he  would  have  seized 
and  drawn  that  desired  one  toward  him.  Meanwhile, 
however,  Mashko's  squeaking  boots  were  heard  in  the 
adjoining  room;  hearing  which,  Pani  Mashko  began  to 
speak  first,  hurriedly,  — 

"My  husband  is  coming." 

At  that  moment  Mashko  opened  the  door,  and  said,  — 

"I  beg  thee." 

Then,  turning  to  his  wife,  he  added,  — 

"Give  command  at  once  to  bring  tea;  we  will  return 
soon." 

In  fact,  the  business  did  not  occupy  much  time,  for  Pan 
Stanislav  filled  out  a  check,  and  that  was  the  end.  But 
Mashko  treated  him  to  a  cigar,  and  asked  him  to  sit  down, 
for  he  wished  to  talk. 

"New  troubles  are  rolling  onto  me,"  said  he;  "but  I 
shall  wade  out.  More  than  once  1  have  had  to  do  with 
greater  ones.     It  is  only  a  question  of  this,  — that  tlie  sun 


CHILDREN  OF  THE   SOIL.  487 

should  get  ahead  of  the  dew,  and  that  I  should  open  some 
new  credit  for  myself,  or  some  new  source  of  income,  before 
the  conclusion  of  the  will  case,  and  in  support  of  it." 

Pan  Stauislav,  all  roused  up  internally,  listened  to  this 
beginning  of  confidences  with  inattention,  and  chewed  his 
cigar  impatiently.  On  a  sudden,  however,  the  dishonest 
thought  came  to  him  that,  were  Mashko  to  be  ruined 
utterl}^,  his  wife  would  be  a  still  easier  prey;  hence  he 
asked  dryly,  — 

"  Hast  thought  of  this,  what  thou  art  to  do  should  the 
case  be  lost?" 

"I  shall  not  lose  it." 

"Everything  may  happen;  thou  knowest  that  best 
thyself." 

"I  do  not  wish  to  think  of  it." 

"Still  it 's  thy  duty,"  said  Pan  Stanislav,  with  an  accent 
of  a  certain  pleasure,  which  Mashko  did  not  notice.  "  What 
wilt  thou  do  in  such  a  case?" 

Mashko  rested  Ms  arms  on  his  knees,  and  looking 
gloomily  on  the  floor,  said,  — 

"In  such  a  case  I  shall  have  to  leave  Warsaw." 

A  moment  of  silence  came.  The  young  advocate's  face 
became  gloomier  and  gloomier;  at  last  he  grew  thoughtful, 
and  said,  — 

"  Once,  in  my  best  days,  I  knew  Baron  Hirsh,  in  Paris. 
We  met  a  number  of  times,  and  once  we  took  part  in  some 
affair  of  honor.  Sometimes  now,  when  doubts  come  upon 
me,  I  remember  him;  lie  has  withdrawn,  apparently,  from 
business,  but  really  has  much  on  hand,  especially  in  the 
East.  I  know  men  who  have  made  fortunes  by  him,  for 
the  field  there  is  open  at  every  step." 

"Dost  think  it  possible  to  go  to  him?" 

"Yes;  but  besides  that  I  can  shoot  into  my  forehead." 

But  Pan  Stanislav  did  not  take  this  threat  seriously. 
From  that  short  conversation  he  convinced  himself  of  two 
things :  first,  that  Mashko,  in  spite  of  apparent  confidence, 
thought  often  of  possible  ruin ;  and  second,  that  in  such  an 
event  he  had  a  plan,  fantastic,  it  may  be',  but  ready. 

Mashko  shook  himself  suddenly  out  of  his  gloomy  visions, 
and  said,  — 

"  My  strength  has  lain  always  in  this,  — that  I  never  think 
of  two  things  at  once.  Therefore  I  am  thinking  only  of 
the  will  case.  That  scoundrel  will  do  everything  to  ruin 
me  in  public  opinion,  I  know  that;  but  I  sneer  at  public 


488  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

opinion,  and  care  only  for  the  court.  Should  I  fail  before 
the  decision,  that  might  have  a  bad  influence,  perhaps. 
Dost  understand?  They  would  consider  the  whole  case 
then  as  the  despairing  effort  of  a  drowning  man,  who  grasps 
at  what  he  can.  I  have  no  wish  for  that  position;  there- 
fore I  must  seem  to  be  a  man  standing  on  firm  feet.  This 
is  a  sad  necessity,  and  I  am  not  free  now  to  be  even 
economical.  I  cannot  diminish  my  scale  of  living.  As 
thou  seest  me,  I  have  troubles  to  my  ears;  as  for  that 
matter,  who  knows  it  better  than  thou,  who  art  giving  me 
a  loan?  And  still,  as  late  as  yesterday,  I  was  buying 
Vyborz,  a  considerable  property  in  Kavsk,  simply  to  throw 
dust  in  the  eyes  of  my  creditors  and  opponents.  Tell  me, 
dost  thou  know  old  Zavilovski  well?'' 

"  Not  long.  I  made  his  acquaintance  through  the  young 
man." 

"  But  thou  hast  pleased  him,  for  he  has  immense  admira- 
tion for  men  with  noble  names  who  make  property.  I 
know  that  he  is  his  own  agent;  but  he  is  growing  old,  and 
the  gout  is  annoying  him.  I  have  put  several  thoughts 
before  him;  therefore,  if  he  asks  thee  about  anything, 
recommend  me.  Understand  that  I  do  not  wish  to  get  at 
his  money  chest,  though,  as  agent,  I  should  have  some 
income,  which  would  be  greatly  to  my  hand ;  but  the  main 
question  for  me  is  that  it  should  become  noised  abroad 
that  I  am  the  agent  of  such  a  millionnaire.  Is  it  true  that 
he  intends  to  create  an  entail  for  the  young  man  out  of  his 
estates  in  Poznan?" 

"So  Pani  Bronich  says." 

"That  would  be  a  proof  that  it  is  not  true;  but  all 
things  are  possible.  In  every  case  the  young  man,  too, 
will  receive  with  his  wife  a  certain  dower;  and,  being  a 
poet,  he  has  not  the  least  idea,  surely,  how  to  handle  such 
matters.     I  might  serve  him,  too,  with  advice  and  aid." 

"I  must  refuse  you  decisively  in  his  name,  for  we  have 
engaged  to  occupy  ourselves  with  his  interests  in  future,  — 
that  is,  my  partner  and  I." 

"It  is  not  a  question  with  me  of  his  interest  either," 
said  Mashko,  frowning  slightly,  "but  that  I  might  tell 
people  that  I  am  Zavilovski's  agent;  for,  dost  understand, 
before  it  is  known  which  Zavilovski,  my  credit  can  only 
gain  by  it?  " 

"Thou  knowest  that  I  never  look  into  other  men's -busi- 
ness; but  I  tell  thee  sincerely  that  for  me  it  would  be  a 
terrible  thing  to  exist  in  this  way  only  on  credit" 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  489 

"Ask  the  greatest  millionnaires  on  earth  if  they  made 
fortunes  on  another  basis." 

"  And  ask  all  bankrupts  if  they  did  not  fail  from  that 
cause." 

"As  to  me,  the  future  will  show." 

"It  will,"  said  Pan  Stanislav,  rising. 

Mashko  thanked  him  once  more  for  the  loan;  and  both 
went  to  tea  to  the  lady,  who  inquired,  — 

"Well,  the  business  is  finished?" 

Pan  Stanislav,  whom  her  appearance  roused  again,  and 
who  remembered  suddenly  that  a  little  while  before  she 
said  to  him,  "My  husband  is  coming!"  as  if  half  guilty, 
answered  her  without  reference  to  Mashko,  — 

"Between  your  husband  and  me  it  is,  but  between  us  two 
—  not  yet." 

Pani  Mashko,  though  she  had  cool  blood,  was  still  con- 
fused, as  if  frightened  at  his  daring;  and  Mashko  asked,  — 

"  How  is  that?  " 

"This  way,"  answered  Pan  Stanislav:  "that  the  lady 
thought  me  capable  of  asking  her  property  in  pledge,  and 
I  cannot  pardon  her  that  yet." 

Pani  Mashko  looked  at  him  with  her  indefinite  gray 
eyes,  as  if  with  a  certain  admiration.  His  boldness  had 
imposed  on  her,  and  the  presence  of  mind  with  which  he 
was  able  to  give  a  polite  society  turn  to  his  words.  He 
seemed  to  her  also  at  that  moment  a  fine-looking  man, 
beyond  comparison  better-looking  than  Mashko. 

"I  beg  pardon,"  said  she. 

"  That  will  not  be  given  easily.  You  do  not  know  what 
a  stubborn  and  vengeful  man  I  am." 

Then  she  answered  with  a  certain  coquetry,  like  a  person 
conscious  of  her  charm  and  her  power,  — 

"I  don't  believe  that." 

He  sat  near  her;  and  taking,  with  a  somewhat  uncertain 
hand,  the  cup,  he  began  to  stir  the  tea  with  the  spoon. 
Greater  and  greater  alarm  seized  him.  More  than  once 
before  he  had  called  Pani  Mashko,  while  unmarried,  a 
fish;  but  now  he  felt  warmth  passing  through  her  light 
garments  from  her  body,  and  felt  as  if  some  one  were 
scattering  sparks  on  him.  Again  he  remembered  her  words, 
"  My  husband  is  coming;  "  and  waves  of  blood  rushed  to  his 
heart,  for  it  seemed  to  him  that  only  a  woman  could  speak 
thus  who  was  prepared  and  ready  for  everything.  Some 
voice  in  his  soul  said,  "That  is  only  a  question  of  oppor- 


490  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

tunity;"  and  at  this  thought  his  unbridled  desire  was 
turned  at  once  to  unbridled  delight.  He  ceased  altogether 
to  control  himself.  Soon  he  began  to  seek  her  foot  with 
his;  but  suddenly  that  act  seemed  to  him  passing  rude  and 
peasant-like.  Finally  he  said  to  himself  that  since  it  was 
a  question  of  opportunity  only,  he  ought  to  know  how  to 
wait.  He  foresaw  that  the  time  would  come,  the  oppor- 
tunity be  found. 

Meanwhile  his  position  was  awkward;  he  had  to  keep 
up  a  conversation  quite  in  disaccord  with  the  state  of  his 
mind,  and  to  answer  Mashko,  who  asked  about  the  future 
plans  of  Pan  Ignas,  and  various  things  of  like  tenor.  At 
last  he  rose  to  leave ;  but  before  going,  he  turned  and  said 
to  Mashko,  — 

"  Some  dogs  attacked  me  on  the  way,  and  I  forgot  my 
cane;  lend  me  thine." 

No  dogs  had  attacked,  but  with  him  it  was  a  ques- 
tion of  remaining  even  one  minute  alone  with  the 
young  woman,  so  that  when  Mashko  went  out  he  ap- 
proached her  quickl}^,  and  said,  with  a  sort  of  stifled  and 
unnatural  voice,  — 

"You  see  what  is  taking  place  with  me?" 

She  saw,  indeed,  his  excitement,  his  eyes  glittering  with 
desire,  and  his  distended  nostrils.  Alarm  and  fear  seized 
her  at  once;  but  he  remembered  only  her  words,  "My 
husband  is  coming,"  and  one  feeliug,  described  by  the 
words,  "let  happen  what  may,"  made  the  man,  who,  a 
moment  before,  said  to  himself  that  he  ought  to  know  how 
to  wait,  put  everything  on  one  card  in  the  twinkle  of  an 
eye,  and  whisper,  — 

"I  love  you." 

She  stood  before  him  with  downcast  eyes,  as  if  stunned, 
and  turned  into  a  pillar  under  the  influence  of  those  words, 
from  which  simple  infidelity  must  begin,  and  then  a  new 
epoch  in  life.  She  turned  her  head  away  slightly,  as  if 
to  avoid  his  gaze.  Silence  followed,  broken  only  by  the 
somewhat  panting  breath  of  Pan  Stanislav.  But  in  the 
next  room  Mashko's  squeaking  boots  were  heard. 

"Till  to-morrow,"  said  Pan  Stanislav. 

And  in  that  whisper  there  was  something  almost  com- 
manding. Pani  Mashko  stood  all  this  time  with  downcast 
eyes,  motionless  as  a  statue. 

"Here  is  the  cane,"  said  Mashko.  "To-morrow  morning 
i  go  to  the  city,  and  return  only  in  the  evening.     If  the 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  491 

weatbev  is  good,  maybe  thou  and  Pani  Polanyetski  would 
like  to  visit  my  hermitess." 

"Good-night,"  said  Pan  Stanislav. 

And  after  a  while  he  found  himself  on  the  empty  road, 
which  was  lighted  by  the  moon.  It  seemed  to  him  that  he 
had  sprung  out  of  a  flame.  The  calm  of  the  night  and  the 
forest  was  in  such  contrast  to  his  tempest  that  it  struck 
him  like  something  uncommon.  The  first  impression  which 
he  was  able  to  note  was  the  feeling  that  his  internal  con- 
flict was  closed,  his  hesitations  ended;  that  the  bridges 
were  burned,  and  all  was  over.  Some  internal  voice  began 
to  shout  in  his  soul  that  first  of  all  it  had  transpired 
that  he  was  a  wretch;  but  in  this  thought  precisely  there 
was  a  kind  of  desperate  solace,  for  he  said  to  himself  if 
it  were  true,  he  must  come  to  terms  with  himself  as 
with  a  wretch,  and  in  that  event  "let  everything  perish, 
and  let  the  devils  take  all."  In  every  case  a  wretch  will 
not  need  to  fight  with  his  own  inclinations,  and  may 
indulge  himself.  Yes,  all  is  over,  and  the  bridges  are 
burned!  He  will  be  false  to  Mary nia,  trample  her  heart, 
trample  honesty,  trample  the  principles  on  which  he  built 
his  life;  but  in  return  he  will  have  Pani  Mashko.  Now 
one  of  two,  either  she  will  complain  of  him  to  her  hus- 
band, and  to-morrow  there  will  be  a  duel,  —  if  so  be, 
let  it  come,  —  or  she  will  be  silent,  and  in  that  case  will 
be  his  partner.  To-morrow  Mashko  will  go  to  Warsaw; 
and  he,  Pan  Stanislav,  will  gain  all  that  he  desires,  even 
if  the  world  had  to  sink  the  next  moment.  If  she  will  not 
expose  him,  it  is  better  for  her  not  to  try  resistance.  He 
imagined  even  that  she  would  not  try,  or  if  she  did,  she 
would  do  so  only  to  preserve  appearances.  And  it  began 
to  seethe  in  him  again;  that  helplessness  of  hers,  which 
formerly  roused  so  much  contempt  in  him,  had  become 
now  an  additional  charm.  He  imagined  the  morrow,  and 
the  passiveness  of  that  woman.  In  spite  of  all  his  chaos 
of  thought,  he  understood  perfectly  that  just  in  that  pas- 
siveness she  would  seek  later  on  an  excuse :  she  would  say 
to  herself  that  she  was  not  a  partaker  in  the  guilt,  because 
she  was  forced  to  it;  and  in  this  way  she  would  calumniate 
God,  her  own  conscience,  and,  if  need  be,  her  hus- 
band.  And  thinking  thus,  he  despised  her  as  much  as 
he  desired  her;  but  he  felt  at  the  same  time  that  he  him- 
self was  not  much  worthier,  and  that  by  virtue  of  a  c^ertain 
selection,  not  only  natural,  but  moral,  they  ought  to  belong 
to  each  other. 


492  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

He  understood,  also,  that  for  him  it  was  too  late  to  with 
draw  from  that  road,  and  that  once  those  same  lips  of  his, 
which  had  sworn  faith  and  love  to  Marynia,  had  said  to 
another  woman,  "I  love!"  the  greatest  evil  was  com- 
mitted. The  rest  was  simply  a  sequence ,  which  it  was  not 
proper  to  reject,  even  for  this  reason,  —  that  in  every  case 
it  was  a  pleasure.  He  imagined  that  all  must  reason  thus 
who  throw  honesty  through  the  window,  and  resolve  on 
deeds  of  vileness;  and  the  reasoning  seemed  to  him  as 
exact  as  it  was  immoral.  And  the  more  soberly  he  re- 
flected, the  more  he  was  astonished  at  his  own  degradation. 
He  had  seen  much  evil  and  hidden  vileness  in  the  world 
under  the  guise  of  refinement  and  polish.  He  knew  that 
corruption  had  worked  out  for  itself,  somehow,  under  the 
influence  of  bad  books,  a  right  of  citizenship;  but  he  re- 
membered that  he  was  indignant  at  this,  that  he  wished 
simplicity  and  strictness  for  the  society  in  which  he  lived, 
in  the  conviction  that  only  on  such  bases  could  social 
strength  and  permanence  be  developed.  Nothing  had 
roused  in  him  so  many  fears  for  the  future  as  that  refined 
evil  of  the  West  sown  on  the  wild  Slav  field,  and  growing 
up  on  it  with  a  sickly  bloom  of  dilettantism,  license, 
weakness,  and  faithlessness.  More  than  once,  as  he  re- 
membered, he  had  reproached  with  such  sowings,  at  one 
time  high  financial  spheres,  at  another  aristocracy  of 
birth;  and  more  than  once  he  had  attacked  them  without 
mercy.  Now  he  understood  that  whoso  lives  in  an  atmos- 
phere filled  with  carbonic  gas,  must  suffocate.  In  what 
was  he  better  than  others?  Or  rather,  how  much  worse 
was  he  than  those  who,  floating  in  corruption,  as  sticks 
float  in  water,  do  not,  at  least,  amuse  themselves  with 
hypocrisy,  nor  deceive  themselves,  nor  prescribe  rules  to 
others,  nor  erect  ideals  of  a  healthy  man  spiritually,  an 
honest  husband,  an  honest  father,  as  a  binding  model. 
And  he  almost  refused  to  believe  that  he  was  the  man 
who  once  gave  Pani  Emilia  ideal  friendship,  and  prom- 
ised faithfulness  to  Marynia,  and  who  considered  that 
he  had  a  clear  intellect  and  a  character  juster  and  stronger 
than  others. 

He  stronger?  His  strength  was  only  deception,  coming 
from  lack  of  temptation.  If  he  had  loved  Pani  Emilia 
with  the  ideal  feeling  of  a  brother;  if  he  had  resisted  the 
coqiietry  of  Pani  Aneta,  —  it  was  only  because  they  did  not 
rouse  in  him  that  animal  feeling  which  that  puppet  with  her 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  493 

red  eyes  roused,  she  whom  his  soul  rejected,  but  for  whom 
his  senses  were  striving  this  long  time.  He  thought  then, 
too,  that  his  feeling  for  Marynia  had  never  been  honest, 
for  at  the  basis  of  things  it  was  not  anything  else  than  just 
such  an  animal  attraction.  Familiarity  had  dulled  it;  and, 
restrained  by  the  condition  of  Marynia,  he  had  turned  to 
where  he  was  able,  and  turned  without  restraint  or  scruple 
hardly  half  a  year  after  his  marriage. 

And  Pan  Stanislav,  who,  on  leaving  Mashko's  house, 
had  the  feeling  that  he  was  a  wretch,  thought  all  at  once 
that  he  was  more  of  a  wretch  than  at  first  he  had  imagined, 
for  he  remembered  now  that  he  was  to  be  a  father. 

At  home,  in  Marynia's  windows,  the  lights  had  not  been 
extinguished;  he  would  have  given  much  to  find  her  sleep- 
ing. It  came  to  his  mind,  even,  to  walk  on  and  not  return 
till  there  was  darkness  in  the  chamber.  But  suddenly  he 
saw  her  profile  in  the  windoAV.  She  must  be  looking  for 
him;  and,  since  it  was  clear  in  front  of  the  house,  she 
must  have  seen  him,  —  hence  he  halted  and  went  in. 

She  received  him  in  a  white  night  wrapper,  and  with 
unbound  hair.  There  was  in  that  unbound  hair  a  certain 
calculated  coquetry,  for  she  knew  that  she  had  beautiful 
hair,  and  that  he  liked  to  fondle  it. 

"Why  art  thou  not  sleeping?"  asked  he,  coming  in. 

She  approached  him,  sleepy,  but  smiling,  and  said, — 

"I  was  waiting  for  thee  to  say  the  evening  prayer." 

Since  their  stay  in  .Rome  they  had  prayed  together;  but 
at  present  the  very  thought  of  this  seemed  to  him  insup- 
portable.    Meanwhile  Marynia  inquired, — 

"  Well ,  Stas ,  art  content  that  thou  hast  saved  him?  Thou 
art,  I  think." 

"  Yes,"  answered  he. 

"  But  she  does  not  know  of  his  position  ?  " 

"  She  does  and  does  not.     It  is  late.    Let  us  go  to  sleep." 

"Good-night.  Dost  thou  know  of  what  1  have  been 
thinking  here  alone  ?  That  thou  art  so  good  and  honest." 

And,  extending  her  face  to  him,  she  put  her  arms  around 
liis  neck ;  he  kissed  her,  feeling  at  the  same  time  the  pnre 
honesty  of  her  kiss,  and  his  own  vileness,  and  the  whole 
series  of  vilenesses  which  he  would  have  to  commit  later  on. 

One  of  these  he  committed  right  there,  kneeling  down  to 
the  prayer,  which  Marynia  repeated  aloud.  He  could  not 
avoid  saying  it;  and  in  saying  it,  he  merely  played  a  pitiful 
comedy,  for  he  could  not  pray. 


494  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

After  the  prayer  was  finished  and  a  second  good-night 
given,  he  could  not  sleep.  It  seemed  to  him  that,  when 
coming  from  Mashko's,  he  had  embraced  with  his  mind  his 
action  and  all  its  moral  consequences.  Meanwhile  it  turned 
out  that  he  had  not.  It  came  to  his  head  now  that  it  is 
possible  not  to  believe  in  God,  but  not  permitted  to  make 
sport  of  Him.  To  commit,  for  example,  a  perfidy,  to  return 
home  to-morrow,  or  the  following  day,  after  having  com- 
mitted adultery,  and  kneel  down  to  prayer,  that  would  be 
too  much.  He  felt  that  it  was  necessary  to  choose  either 
religious  feeling  and  sincere  faith,  or  Paui  Mashko. 
To  reconcile  these  was  not  possible.  And  all  at  once  he 
saw  that  everything  which  he  had  worked  out  and  elabo- 
rated in  himself  purposely  for  years,  that  all  that  immense 
calm,  resulting  from  the  solution  of  life's  chief  enigma, 
— in  a  word,  that  which  composed  the  essence  of  his  spiritual 
existence,  —  must  be  rejected  outright.  On  the  other  hand, 
he  understood  equally  well  that,  from  to-morrow  forward,  he 
must  give  the  lie  to  his  own  social  principles,  to  his  recog- 
nition of  the  family  as  the  basis  of  social  existence.  It  is 
not  permitted  to  proclaim  such  principles,  and  seduce  other 
men's  wives  in  secret.  It  was  necessary  to  choose  here  too. 
As  to  Marynia,  perfidy  against  her  had  been  committed  al- 
ready. With  one  sweep,  then,  his  relations  with  God,  with 
society,  with  his  wife,  had  gone  to  ruin ;  the  ceiling  of  that 
spiritual  house,  reared  with  great  labor,  and  in  which  he  had 
been  dwelling,  had  tumbled  on  his  head.  And  that  chilling 
cold  of  evil  filled  him  with  wonder.  He  had  not  expected 
that,  on  cutting  a  single  thread,  the  whole  fabric  would  un- 
ravel so  quickly;  and  with  astonishment  he  asked  himself 
how  there  can  exist  in  the  world  opportunism  of  that  kind, 
which  reconciles  faith-breaking  in  life  with  honesty  and 
honor  ?  For  that  is  what  is  done.  He  knew  many  so-called 
decent  people,  married  men,  loving  their  wives,  as  it  w  ere, 
religious,  —  and  at  the  same  time  pursuing  every  woman 
they  met.  These  same  men,  who  would  account  to  their 
wives  every  deviation  from  duty  as  a  crime,  permitted  them- 
selves conjugal  infidelity  without  a  scruple.  He  remembered 
how  one  of  his  acquaintances,  pushed  to  the  wall  on  this 
point,  wriggled  out  humorously  with  the  well-known  street 
witticism  that  he  was  not  a  Swedish  match.  Absolute  in- 
fidelity was  obliterated,  and  among  men  passed  as  something 
permitted,  almost  customary.  That  thought  brought  Pan 
Stanislav  a  moment  of  consolation,  but  a  short  one,  for  he 


CHILDREN  OP  THE  SOIL.  495 

was  consistent,  if  not  in  his  actions,  at  least  in  his  reason- 
ing.  True!  The  world  is  not  composed  of  thieves  and 
hypocrites  alone,  but  in  great  part  of  thoughtless  and 
frivolous  people ;  and  this  opportunism,  reconciling  adul- 
tery with  honor  and  honesty,  is  nothing  else  than  frivolity. 
For  in  what  can  custom  excuse  a  man,  who  recognizes  the 
immorality  and  stupidity  of  that  custom  ?  For  a  fool,  in- 
fidelity may  be  a  joke,  thought  Pan  Stanislav ;  for  a  man 
who  thinks  seriously,  it  is  scoundrelism,  as  much  opposed 
to  ethics  as  a  crime,  as  the  signing  of  other  men's  names  to 
notes,  as  the  breaking  of  an  oath,  as  the  breaking  of  a  word, 
as  swindling  in  trade,  or  in  cards.  Keligion  may  forgive  the 
sin  of  adultery  as  a  momentary  fall ;  but  adultery  which  ex- 
cuses itself  beforehand,  excludes  religion,  excludes  society, 
excludes  honesty,  excludes  honor.  Pan  Stanislav,  who,  in 
his  reasonings  with  himself,  was  always  consistent  and  in 
general  utterly  unsparing,  did  not  withdraw  before  this  last 
induction.  But  he  was  frightened  when  he  saw  the  preci- 
pice. If  he  did  not  withdraw,  he  would  break  his  neck ; 
but  at  the  same  time  he  began  to  fret  at  his  own  weakness. 
He  knew  himself  well  enough,  with  sorrow  and  with  con- 
tempt also  for  his  own  weakness ;  he  knew  in  advance  that 
when  he  should  see  Pani  Mashko,  the  human  beast  would 
get  the  upper  hand  of  his  soul.  To  withdraw  ?  But  he  had 
repeated  tiiat  to  himself,  and  determined  it  after  every 
temptation  ;  and  afterward,  in  presence  of  each  succeeding 
one,  passion  had  run  away  with  his  will  at  breakneck  speed, 
just  as  a  wild  horse  runs  away  with  a  rider.  At  the  very 
remembrance  of  this  he  wanted  to  curse.  Tf  he  had  been 
unhappy  at  home,  if  his  passion  had  grown  up  on  the  ground 
of  great  love,  he  would  have  had  some  excuse  for  it ;  but  he 
did  not  love  Pani  Mashko, —  he  only  desired  her.  He  could 
never  give  himself  an  account  of  this  dualism  in  the  nature 
of  man,  —  he  knew  only  that  he  desired  and  would  desire 
after  every  meeting,  after  every  thought  of  her. 

There  remained  one  escape,  not  to  see  her, — an  impos- 
sible escape,  not  only  with  reference  to  relations  of  acquaint- 
ance of  every  kind,  but  even  with  reference  to  this,  that 
then  Marj-nia  would  begin  to  suspect  something.  Pan  Stan- 
islav did  not  even  suppose  that  that  hafl  taken  place  already, 
and  that  she  merely  concealed  from  him  her  suffering;  he 
gave  account  to  himself,  however,  that  if  his  treason  should 
in  any  way  come  out,  it  would  be  a  blow  simply  beyond 
the  strength  of  that  mild  and  trusting  woman.     And  his  re- 


496  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.       • 

preaches  increased  still  more.  Great  pity  and  compassion 
for  her  seized  him,  as  well  as  increased  contempt  for  him- 
self. In  spite  of  darkness,  the  blood  rushed  to  his  face 
when  he  remembered  that  the  fatal  words  had  fallen ;  that 
he  had  said,  "  I  love,"  to  Pani  Mashko ;  that  he  had  de- 
ceived and  betrayed  Marynia,  that  honest,  truthful  woman  ; 
and  that  he  was  capable  of  betraying  her  trust,  and  tram- 
pling on  her  heart. 

For  a  while  it  seemed  to  him  a  pure  impossibility ;  but 
his  conscience  answered  him,  Thou  art  capable!  Still,  in 
that  sorrow  and  pity  for  her  he  found  a  kind  of  consolation, 
when  he  saw  that  his  feeling  for  her  was  and  is  something 
more  than  animal  attraction,  and  that  there  were  in  him 
certain  attachments,  flowing  out  of  the  community  of  life 
and  mutual  possession ;  from  the  marriage  vow  ;  from  com- 
radeship in  good  and  evil  fortune ;  from  the  great  esteem 
and  affection  which  in  future  was  to  be  strengthened  by  a 
child.  Never  had  he  loved  her  more  than  in  that  moment 
of  internal  torture,  and  never  had  there  risen  in  him  greater 
tenderness.  Day  began  to  break ;  through  the  openings  of 
the  window  the  dawn  was  entering,  and  filled  the  chamber 
with  a  pale  light,  in  which  he  could  see  indistinctly  her 
dark  head  sunk  in  the  pillow.  His  heart  was  filled  with 
the  feeling  that  that  was  his  only  and  best  treasure, —  his 
greatly  beloved  comrade  sleeping  there,  his  best  friend,  his 
wife,  and  the  future  mother  of  his  child.  And  no  con- 
clusions, no  reasonings  about  religion  and  social  unvirtue, 
filled  him  with  such  disgust  for  that  unvirtue  and  for  him- 
self as  the  sight  of  that  mild,  sleeping  face.  The  light 
through  the  openings  entered  more  and  more,  and  her  head 
emerged  more  distinctly  each  moment  from  the  shade.  The 
half-circles  of  her  eyelids  were  visible  already  on  her  cheeks ; 
and  Pan  Stanislav,  looking  at  her,  began  to  say  to  himself, 
"  Thy  honesty  will  help  me  !  "  All  at  once  better  feelings 
gained  the  victory  in  him :  the  beast  abandoned  his  soul; 
and  a  certain  consolation  seized  him,  for  he  thought  that  if 
he  were  such  a  wretch  as  he  had  imagined,  he  would  have 
followed  the  voice  of  passion  with  a  lighter  heart,  and 
would  not  have  passed  through  such  suffering. 

He  woke  late  in  the  morning,  wearied  and  somewhat  ill; 
he  felt  such  dissatisfaction  and  exhaustion  as  he  had  never 
felt  before.  But  by  the  light  of  day,  and  besides  a  rainy 
and  gloomy  day,  the  whole  affair  stood  before  him  differ- 
ently,—  it  seemed  more  sober,  ordinary;  the  future  did  not 


CHILDREN  OP  THE  SOIL.  497 

appear  to  him  so  terrible,  nor  his  fault  so  great.  Every- 
thing grew  smaller  in  his  eyes;  he  began  to  think  then 
principally  of  this,  whether  Pani  Mashko  had  confessed 
all  to  her  husband  or  not.  At  moments  he  had  the  feel- 
ing  of  a  man  who  has  crawled  into  a  great  and  sore  trouble 
needlessly.  Gradually,  however,  this  feeling  was  changed 
into  an  ever  increasing  and  more  vivid  alarm.  "The  posi- 
tion is  stupid,"  said  he  to  himself.  "Every  reproach  may 
be  made  against  Mashko,  but  not  this,  that  he  is  an  incom- 
petent or  a  coward;  and  he  will  not  put  such  an  insult  as 
that  into  his  pocket.  Hence  there  will  be  an  explanation, 
a  scandal,  perhaps  a  duel.  May  the  thunderbolts  shatter 
it!  What  a  fatal  history,  if  the  thing  reaches  Marynia!  " 
And  he  began  to  be  angry  with  the  whole  world.  Till 
then  he  had  had  perfect  peace ;  he  had  cared  for  no  one, 
counted  with  no  one.  To-day,  however,  he  is  turning  to 
every  side;  in  his  head  is  the  question,  "Has  she  told;  has 
she  not  told?  "  and  from  the  morning  he  could  not  think 
of  aught  else.  It  went  that  far  that  finally  he  put  to 
himself  this  question:  "What  the  deuce!  am  I  afraid  of 
Mashko?  I?"  It  was  not  Mashko  whom  he  feared,  but 
Marynia,  which  was  in  like  manner  something  both  new 
and  astonishing,  for  a  couple  of  days  earlier  he  would  have 
admitted  anything  rather  than  this,  — that  he  would  ever 
fear  Marynia.  And  as  midday  approached,  the  affair, 
which  seemed  to  him  diminished  in  the  morning,  began 
again  to  increase  in  his  eyes.  At  moments  he  strength- 
ened himself  with  the  hope  that  Pani  Mashko  would  be 
silent;  at  moments  he  lost  that  hope.  And  then  he  felt 
that  he  would  not  dare  to  look  into  the  eyes,  not  of 
Marynia,  merely,  but  of  any  one;  and  he  feared  Bigiel, 
too,  and, Pani  Bigiel,  and  Pani  Emilia,  Pan  Ignas, — in  a 
word,  all  his  acquaintances.  "See  what  it  is  to  make  a 
muddle!"  thought  he.  "How  much  one  stupidity  costs!" 
His  alarm  increased  to  the  degree  that  at  last,  under 
pretext  of  returning  the  cane,  he  sent  a  servant  boy 
to  Pani  Mashko  with  a  bow,  and  an  inquiry  as  to  her 
health. 

The  servant  returned  in  half  an  hour.  Pan  Stanislav 
saw  him  through  the  window,  and,  going  down  hurriedly 
to  meet  him,  learned  that  he  had  brought  a  note  from 
Pani  Mashko  to  Marynia.  Taking  the  note,  he  gave  it  to 
Marynia;  and  his  heart  beat  with  still  greater  alarm  while 
watching  her  face  as  she  read  it. 

32  . 


498  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

But  IVFarynia,  when  she  had  finished,  raised  her  calm 
eyes  to  him,  and  said,  — 

"Pani  Mashko  invites  us  to  supper  to-day  —  and  the 
Bigiels  also." 

"A-a!"  answered  Pan  Stanislav,  drawing  a  full  breath. 
And  in  his  soul  he  added,  "She  has  not  told." 

"We  will  go,  shall  we  not?"  asked  Marynia. 

"If  thou  wish  —  that  is,  go  with  the  Bigiels,  for  after 
dinner  I  must  go  to  the  city.  1  must  see  Svirski;  per- 
haps I  shall  bring  him  here." 

"  Then  we  may  send  an  excuse?  " 

"1^0,  no!  go  with  the  Bigiels.  Maybe  I  shall  call  in  oi? 
the  way  and  explain  to  her;  but  even  that  is  not  necessary. 
Thou  wilt  explain  for  me."  And  he  went  out,  for  he 
needed  to  be  alone  with  his  thoughts. 

"She  has  not  told;  "•  a  feeling  of  relief  and  delight  now 
possessed  him.  She  had  not  told  her  husband;  she  was 
not  offended;  she  had  invited  them.  She  has  agreed,  there- 
fore, to  everything;  she  is  ready  to  go  farther,  and  to 
go  everywhere,  whithersoever  he  maj^  wish  to  lead  her. 
What  is  that  invitation  itself,  if  not  a  wish  to  put  him  at 
ease,  if  not  an  answer  to  his,  "Till  to-morrow"  ?  Now  all 
depends  on  him  alone;  and  shivers  begin  again  to  go  from 
his  feet  to  his  head.  There  are  no  hindrances  unless  in 
himself.  The  fish  has  swallowed  the  hook.  Temptations 
attacked  him  with  new  power,  for  uncertainty  restrained 
them  no  longer.  Yes,  the  fish  had  swallowed  the  hook; 
she  had  not  resisted.  Here  a  feeling  of  triumph  seized 
him,  and  of  satisfaction  for  his  self-love;  and  at  the  same 
time,  thinking  of  Pani  Mashko,  he  began  almost  to  beg 
pardon  of  her  in  his  soul,  because  he  had  at  moments  been 
capable  of  doubting  her,  and  thinking  her  an  honest  woman 
for  even  five  minutes.  Now,  at  least,  he  knew  what  to 
think  of  her,  and  he  was  thankful.  After  a  while  he 
laughed  at  his  previous  fears.  In  this  way  he  rendered 
the  first  tribute  due  her,  contempt.  She  had  ceased  to  be 
for  him  something  unattainable,  something  for  which  a 
battle  between  hope  and  fear  is  fought.  In  spite  of  him- 
self, he  imagined  her  now  as  something  of  his,  as  his 
own,  always  attractive,  but  for  this  very  reason  less  valu- 
able. The  thought  also  caused  him  pleasure,  that  if  he 
resisted  temptation  at  present,  it  would  be  a  pure  merit. 
Now,  when  the  doors  stood  open,  he  saw  with  wonder 
that  the  desire  of  resistance  increased  in  him.     Once  more 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  499 

all  that  he  had  said  during  the  sleepless  night  about  faith- 
breaking  flew  through  his  mind.  Once  more  his  heart 
reminded  him  of  Marynia,  her  justness,  her  honesty,  her 
approaching  motherhood,  and  that  great  peace,  that 'real 
happiness,  which  he  could  find  only  near  her;  and  in  the 
end  of  all  these  considerations  he  decided  to  go  to  the  city 
and  not  be  at  Pani  Mashko's. 

After  midday  he  gave  command  to  bring  the  horses. 
When  he  was  seated  in  Bigiel's  carriage  he  bent  over, 
embraced  Marynia  at  parting,  "  Amuse  thyself  well,"  and 
drove  away.  His  morning  exhaustion  had  passed;  he 
recovered  even  his  humor,  for  he  felt  satisfied  with  him- 
self. Confidence  in  his  own  power  and  character  returned 
to  him.  Meanwhile,  a  certain  exciting  pleasure  was  caused 
in  his  mind  by  the  thought  of  Pani  Mashko's  astonish- 
ment when  she  should  learn  that  he  had  gone,  and  had 
no  intention  to  visit  her.  He  felt  a  certain  need  of  revenge 
on  the  woman  for  the  physical  impression  which  she  had 
produced  on  him.  Since  the  coming  of  that  note,  which 
she  had  written  to  Marynia,  his  contempt  for  her  had 
increased  with  such  force  that  soon  he  began  to  think  that 
he  would  be  in  a  position  to  come  off  victorious,  eveu 
should  he  visit  her. 

"  And  if  I  should  go  there,  indeed,  and  give  another 
meaning  to  yesterday's  words,"  said  he.  But  directly  he 
thought,  "I  will  not  be  a  deceiver,  at  least,  with  reference 
to  myself." 

He  was  certain,  however,  that  she  would  not  be  aston- 
ished at  his  coming.  After  what  he  had  told  her  yester- 
day, she  might  suppose  that  he  would  find  some  excuse  for 
visiting  her  before  the  arrival  of  Marynia  and  the  Bigiels, 
or  for  remaining  behind  them. 

But  should  she  see  him  driving  past,  she  might  think 
that  he  feared  her,  or  consider  him  a  boor,  or  jester. 

"There  is  no  doubt,"  monologued  he,  further,  "that  a 
man  who  does  not  consider  himself  a  fool,  or  a  dolt,  in- 
capable of  resisting  any  puppet,  would  go  in  and  try  to 
correct  in  some  fashion  yesterday's  stupidity." 

But  at  the  sa«ie  moment  fear  seized  him.  That  same 
voice  which  yesterday  evening  shouted  in  his  soul  that  he 
was  a  wretch,  began  to  shout  again  with  redoubled  energy. 

"I  will  not  go 'in,"  thought  Pan  Stanislav.  "To  under- 
stand and  to  be  able  to  refrain  are  two  different  matters. 

Pani  Kraslavski's  villa  was  visible  now  in  the  distance. 


500  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

Suddenly  it  flew  into  his  head  that  Pani  Mashko,  through 
vexation  and  the  feeling  of  being  contemned,  through 
offended  self-love,  through  revenge,  might  tell  Marynia 
something  that  would  open  her  eyes.  Maybe  she  would  do 
that  with  one  word,  with  one  smile,  giving  even,  it  might 
be,  to  understand  further,  that  certain  insolent  hopes  of 
his  had  been  shattered  by  her  womanly  honesty,  and  in 
that  way  explain  his  absence.  Women  rarely  refuse  them- 
selves such  small  revenges,  and  still  more  rarely  are  they 
merciful  one  toward  another. 

"  If  I  had  the  courage  to  go  in  —  " 

At  that  moment  the  carriage  was  even  with  the  gate  of 
the  villa. 

"  Stop !  "  said  Pan  Stanislav  to  the  driver. 

He  saw  on  the  balcony  Pani  Mashko,  who,  however, 
withdrew  at  once. 

He  walked  through  the  yard ;  the  servant  received  him 
at  the  door. 

"The  lady  is  upstairs,"  said  he. 

Pan  Stanislav  felt  that  his  legs  were  trembling  under 
him,  when  he  walked  up  the  steps ;  meanwhile  the  follow- 
ing thoughts  flew  through  his  head,  — 

"He  may  permit  himself  everything  who  takes  life 
lightly,  but  i  do  not  take  it  lightly.  If,  after  all  that  I 
have  considered  and  thought  over  and  said,  I  could  not 
master  myself,  I  should  be  the  last  among  men."  Now, 
standing  at  the  door  of  the  room  pointed  out  by  the  ser- 
vant, he  inquired,  — 

"Is  it  permitted?" 

"I  beg,"  said  the  thin  voice. 

And  after  a  while  he  found  himself  in  Pani  Mashko's 
boudoir. 

"I  have  come  in,"  said  he,  giving  her  his  hand,  "to  ex- 
plain that  I  cannot  be  at  supper.     I  must  go  to  the  city." 

Pani  Mashko  stood  before  him  with  head  a  little  inclined, 
with  drooping  eyes,  confused,  full  of  evident  fear,  having 
in  her  posture  and  expression  of  face  something  of  the 
resigned  victim,  which  sees  that  the  decisive  moment  has 
come,  and  that  the  misfortune  must  happen. 

That  state  of  mind  came  on  Pan  Stanislav,  too,  in  one 
flash;  hence,  approaching  her  suddenly,  he  asked  with 
stifled  voice,  — 

"Are  you  afraid?    Of  what  are  you  afraid? " 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  601 


CHAPTER  LII. 

Next  morning  Pani  Polanyetski  received  a  letter  from 
ber  husband,  stating  that  he  would  not  return  that  day,  for 
he  was  going  to  look  at  a  place  situated  on  the  other  side 
of  the  city.  On  the  following  day,  however,  he  returned, 
and  brought  Svirski,  who  had  promised  Bigiel  and  Pan 
Stanislav  before  that  he  would  visit  them  at  their  summer 
residence. 

"Imagine  to  thyself,"  said  Pan  Stanislav,  after  greeting 
his  wife,  "that  that  Buchynek,  which  I  have  been  looking 
at,  lies  next  to  old  Zavilovski's  Yasmen;  when  I  learned 
that,  I  visited  the  old  man,  who  is  not  feeling  well,  and  in 
Yasmen  I  found  Pan  Svirski,  unexpectedly.  He  helped 
me  to  look  at  Buchynek,  and  the  house  pleased  him  much. 
There  is  a  nice  garden,  a  large  pond,  and  some  forest. 
Once  it  was  a  considerable  property ;  but  the  land  has  been 
sold  away,  so  that  little  remains  now  with  the  residence." 

"A  pretty,  very  pretty  place,"  said  Svirski.  "There  is 
much  shade,  much  air,  and  much  quiet." 

"Wilt  thou  buy  it?"  inquired  Marynia. 

"Perhaps.  Meanwhile  I  should  like  to  rent  it.  We 
could  live  there  the  rest  of  the  summer,  and  satisfy  our- 
selves as  to  whether  it  would  suit  us.  The  owner  is  so 
certain  that  a  stay  there  will  be  agreeable  to  us  that  he 
agrees  to  rent  it.  I  should  have  given  him  earnest-money 
at  once,  but  I  wished  to  know  what  thy  thought  would  be." 

Marynia  was  a  little  sorry  to  lose  the  society  of  the 
Bigiels;  but,  noticing  that  her  husband  was  looking  into 
her  eyes  earnestly,  and  that  he  had  an  evident  wish  that 
they  should  live  the  rest  of  the  summer  by  themselves, 
she  said  that  she  would  agree  most  willingly. 

The  Bic^iels  began  to  oppose,  and  offer  a  veto;  but  when 
Pan  Stanislav  represented  to  them  that  it  was  a  question 
of  trying  a  house  in  which  he  and  Marynia  would  be  likely 
to  live  every  summer  to  the  end  of  their  lives,  they  had 
to  confess  that  the  reason  was  sufficient. 

"To-morrow  I  will  engage  the  place,  and  carry  out  all 
the  furniture  necessary  from  Warsaw,  and  we  can  move  m 
the  day  after." 


502  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

"That  is  just  as  if  you  wished  to  flee  from  us  as  soon  as 
possible,"  said  Pani  Bigiel;  "why  such  haste?" 

"There  is  no  trouble  with  packing,"  answered  he,  hur- 
riedly; "and  you  know  that  I  do  not  like  delay." 

Finally  it  was  left  in  this  way:  that  the  Polanyetskis 
were  to  go  to  Buchynek  in  four  days.  Now  dinner  was 
served,  during  which  Svirski  told  how  Pan  Stanislav  had 
found  him  at  Zavilovski's  in  Yasmeh. 

"  Panna  Helena  wished  me  to  paint  her  father's  portrait," 
said  he,  "and  to  paint  it  in  Yasmen.  I  went  because  I 
Avas  eager  for  work,  and,  besides,  the  old  man  has  an  inter- 
esting head.  But  nothing  could  come  of  that.  They  are 
in  a  residence  with  walls  two  yards  thick;  for  that  reason 
there  is  poor  light  in  the  rooms.  I  would  not  paint  under 
such  conditions;  and  then  another  hindrance  appeared, — 
the  model  was  attacked  by  the  gout.  The  doctor,  whom 
they  took  with  them  to  the  country,  told  me  that  the  old 
man's  condition  is  not  good,  and  may  end  badly." 

"I  am  sorry  for  Pan  Zavilovski,"  said  Marynia,  "for  he 
seems  a  worthy  man.  And  poor  Panna  Helena!  In  the 
event  of  his  death  she  will  be  quite  alone.  And  does  he 
understand  his  own  condition?" 

"  He  does,  and  he  does  not ;  it  is  his  way.  He  is  always 
an  original.     Ask  your  husband  how  he  received  him." 

Pan  Stanislav  laughed,  and  said,  — 

"  On  the  way  to  Buchynek  I  learned  that  Yasmen  was 
near,  and  I  resolved  to  go  there.  Panna  Helena  took  me 
to  her  father;  but  he  was  just  finishing  his  rosary,  and  did 
not  greet  me  till  he  had  said  the  last  '  Hail  Mary. '  Then 
he  begged  my  pardon,  and  said  thus :  '  Those  heavenly 
matadors  in  their  own  order ;  but  with  Her  a  man  has  more 
courage,  and  in  old  fashion,  when  She  is  merciful,  all  is 
well,  for  nothing  is  refused  Her.'  " 

"What  a  type  he  is!  "  exclaimed  Svirski. 

The  Bigiels  laughed,  but  Marynia  said  that  there  was 
something  affecting  in  such  confidence.  With  this  Svirski 
agreed,  and  Pan  Stanislav  continued,  — 

"Then  he  said  that  it  was  time  for  him  to  think  of 
his  will,  and  I  did  not  oppose  him,  in  usual  fashion,  for 
with  me  it  is  a  question  of  our  Pan  Ignas.  On  the  con- 
trary, I  told  him  that  that  was  a  purely  legal  matter,  for 
which  it  was  never  too  early,  and  that  even  young  people 
ought  to  think  of  it." 

"  That  is  my  opinion,  too, "  put  in  Bigiel. 


CHILDREN  OF  THE   SOIL.  503 

"We  spoke  also  of  Pan  Ignas;  the  old  man  has  come  to 
love  him  heartily." 

"Yes!"  exclaimed  Svirski.  "When  he  learned  that  I 
had  been  in  Prytulov,  he  began  at  once  to  inquire  about 
him . " 

"  Then  have  you  been  in  Prytulov?  "  inquired  Marynia. 

" Four  days.     I  like  Osnovski  immensely." 

"And  Pani  Osnovski?" 

"I  gave  my  opinion  in  Rome  of  her,  and,  as  I  remem- 
ber, let  my  tongue  out  like  a  scourge." 

"  I  remember  too.  You  were  very  wicked.  How  is  it 
with  the  young  couple?" 

"Oh,  nothing!  They  are  happy.  But  Panna  Ratkovski 
is  there,  —  a  very  charming  young  lady.  I  lacked  little  of 
falling  in  love  with  her." 

"There  it  is  for  you!  But  Stas  told  me  that  you  are  in 
love  with  all  ladies." 

"With  all,  and  therefore  always  in  love." 

Bigiel,  hearing  this,  stopped  and  said  earnestly,  — 

"That  is  a  good  way  never  to  marry." 

"Unfortunately  it  is,"  said  Svirski.      Then ,  turning  to 
Marynia,  he  said,  "Pan  Stanislav  must  have  told  you  of 
our  agreement,  — that  when  you  say  to  me  '  marry,'  I  shall 
marry.    That  was  the  agreement  with  your  husband;  there- 
fore I  should  wish  you  to  see  Panna  Ratkovski.    Her  name 
is  Stefania,  which  means  the  crowned.      A  pretty  name, 
is  it  not?     She  is  a  calm  kind  of  person,  not  bold,  fear- 
ing Pani  Aneta  and  Panna  Castelli,  but  clearly  honest.     I 
had  a  proof  of  this.     Whenever  a  young  lady  is  in  ques- 
tion, I  observe  everything  and  note  it  down  in  my  memory. 
Once  a  beggar  came  to  me  in  Prytulov  with  a  face  like 
that  of  some  Egyptian  hermit  from  Thebes.     Pani  Aneta 
and  Panna  Castelli  rushed  out  at  him  with  their  cameras 
and  photographed  him,  profile  and  full  face,  as  much  as 
was  possible.      But  the  old  man  wanted  food,   I   think. 
He  had  come  hoping  for  alms,  but  evidently  he  hated  to 
ask.     Peasants  have  that  kind  of  feeling.     Well,  none  of 
those  ladies  observed  this,  or  at  least  did  not  note  it;  they 
treated  him  as  a  thing,  till  Panna  Ratkovski  told  them 
that   they   were    humiliating   and  hurting  the   old  man. 
That  is  a  small  incident,  but  it  shows  heart  and  delicate 
feelings.     That  handsome  Kopovski  dangles  about  her;  but 
she  is  not  cliarmed  with  the  man,  like  those  ladies,  who  are 
occupied  with  him,  who  paint  him ,  invent  new  costumes  for 


504  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.     - 

him,  hand  him  around,  and  almost  carry  him  in  their  arms, 
like  a  doll.  No ;  she  told  me  herself  that  Kopovski  annoys 
her;  and  that  pleases  me,  too,  for  he  has  as  much  sense  as 
the  head  of  a  walking-stick." 

"As  far  as  I  have  heard,"  said  Bigiel,  "Pan  Kopovski 
needs  money ;  and  Panna  Ratkovski  is  not  rich.  I  know 
that  her  father,  when  dying,  was  in  debt  to  a  bank  for  a 
sum  which,  with  interest,  was  due  on  the  last  day  of  last 
month." 

"What  is  that  to  us?"  interrupted  Pani  Bigiel. 

"  Thou  art  right,  —  that  is  not  our  affair. " 

"But  how  does  Panna  Ratkovski  look?"  inquired 
Marynia. 

"Panna  Ratkovski?  She  is  not  beautiful,  but  she  has 
a  sweet  face,  pale  complexion,  and  dark  eyes.  You  will 
see  her,  for  those  ladies  expressed  a  wish  to  come  here 
some  day.  And  I  persuaded  them  to  it,  for  I  want  you 
to  see  her." 

"Well,"  answered  Marynia,  laughing,  "I  shall  see  her, 
and  declare  my  sentence.     But  if  it  be  favorable?" 

"I  will  propose;  I  give  my  word.  In  the  M^orst  case, 
I'll  get  a  refusal.  If  you  say  'no,'  I'll  go  after  ducks. 
At  the  end  of  July  shooting  is  permitted." 

"Oh,  those  plans  are  important!  "  said  Pani  Bigiel,  — "a 
wife  or  ducks!  Pan  Ignas  would  not  have  spoken  that 
way." 

"Well,  of  what  use  is  reason  when  one  is  in  love?"  said 
Marynia. 

"  You  are  right,  and  I  envy  him  that  very  condition ;  not 
Panna  Castelli,  though  I  was  in  love  with  her  once  myself 
—  oh,  no!  but  just  that  condition  in  which  one  does  not 
reason  any  longer." 

"But  what  have  j-^ou  against  Panna  Castelli?" 

"Nothing.  I  owe  her  gratitude,  for  —  thanks  to  her  — 
I  had  my  time  of  illusions;  therefore  I  shall  never  say  an 
evil  word  of  her,  though  some  one  is  pulling  me  by  the 
tongue  greatly.     So,  ladies,  do  not  pull  me." 

"On  the  contrary,"  said  Pani  Bigiel,  "you  must  tell  us 
of  both.  I  will  ask  you  only  on  the  veranda,  for  I  have 
directed  to  bring  coffee  there." 

After  a  time  they  were  on  the  veranda.  The  little 
Bigiels  were  running  about  in  a  many-colored  crowd  among 
the  trees,  circling  about  like  bright  butterflies.  Bigiel 
placed  cigars  before  Svirski.     Marynia,  taking  advantage 


CHILDREN  OF  THE   SOIL.  505 

of  the  moment,  went  np  to  her  husband,  who  was  standing 
aside  somewhat,  and,  raising  her  kindly  eyes  to  him,  asked- 

"  Why  so  silent,  Stas?" 

"I  am  tired.  In  the  city  there  was  heat,  and  in  our 
house  one  might  smother.  J  could  n't  sleep,  for  Buchynek 
got  into  my  head." 

"I,  too,  am  curious  about  that  Buchynek,  dost  thou 
know?  In  truth,  I  am  curious.  Thou  hast  done  well  to 
see  the  place  and  hire  it;  very  well."  And  she  looked  at 
him  with  affection;  but,  seeing  that  he  seemed  really  not 
hi-mself,  she  said,  — 

"  We  will  occupy  Pan  Svirski  here,  and  do  thou  go  and 
rest  a  while." 

"No;  I  cannot  sleep." 

Meanwhile  Svirski  talked  on.  "There  is  no  breeze," 
said  he ;  "  not  a  twig  in  motion.  A  genuine  summer  day ! 
Have  you  noticed  that  in  the  season  of  heat,  and  in  time 
of  such  calm,  the  whole  world  seems  as  if  sunk  in  medita- 
tion. I  remember  that  Bukatski  found  always  in  this 
something  mystical,  and  said  that  he  would  like  to  die  on 
such  a  sunny  day,  —  to  sit  thus  in  an  armchair,  then  fall 
asleep,  and  dissipate  into  light." 

"Still,  he  did  not  die  in  summer,"  remarked  Bigiel. 

"No,  but  in  spring,  and  in  good  weather.  Besides, 
taking  things  in  general,  he  did  not  suffer,  and  that  is 
beyond  all." 

Here  he  was  silent  a  while,  and  then  added,  — 

"As  to  death,  we  may  and  should  be  reconciled  to  it, 
and  death  has  never  made  me  indignant;  but  why  pain 
exists,  that,  as  God  lives,  passes  human  understanding.'' 

No  one  took  up  the  consideration,  so  Svirski,  shaking 
the  ashes  from  his  cigar,  said, — 

"But  never  jnind  that.  After  dinner,  and  with  black 
coffee,  it  is  possible  to  find  a  more  agreeable  subject." 

"Tell  us  of  Pan  Ignas,"  said  Pani  Bigiel. 

"  He  pleases  me.  In  all  that  he  does  and  says  the  lion's 
claw  is  evident,  and,  in  general,  his  nature  is  uncommon, 
immensely  vital.  During  those  two  days  in  Prytulov  we 
became  acquainted  a  little  more  nearly,  and  grew  friendly. 
You  have  no  idea  how  Osnovski  has  grown  to  like  the  man; 
and  I  told  Osnovski  openly  that  I  feared  that  Pan  Ignas 
might  not  be  happy  with  those  ladies." 

"But  why?"  asked  Marynia. 

"That  is  difficult  to  say,  since  one  has  no  facts;  but  it 


506  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

is  felt.  Why?  Because  his  nature  is  utterly  different 
from  theirs.  You  see,  that  all  the  loftier  aspirations, 
which  for  Pan  Ignas  are  the  soul  of  his  life,  are  for  those 
ladies  merely  au  ornament,  —  something  like  lace  on  a 
dress  worn  for  guests,  while  on  common  days  the  person 
who  owns  it  goes  about  in  a  dressing-gown;  and  that  is  a 
great  difference.  I  fear  lest  they,  instead  of  soaring  with 
his  flight,  try  to  make  him  jog  along  by  their  side,  at  their 
own  little  goose-trot,  and  convert  that  which  is  in  him  into 
small  change  for  their  every-day  social  out-go.  And  there 
is  something  in  him!  I  do  not  presuppose  that  catas- 
trophes of  any  kind  are  to  come,  for  I  have  not  the  right 
to  refuse  them  ordinary  petty  honesty,  but  there  may  be 
non-happiness.  I  say  only  this  much :  you  all  know  Pan 
Ignas,  and  you  know  that  he  is  wonderfully  simple;  but 
still,  according  to  me,  his  love  for  Castelka  is  too  difficult 
and  exclusive.  He  puts  into  it  all  his  soul;  and  she  is 
ready  to  give  a  little  bit  —  so!  The  rest  she  would  like  to 
keep  for  social  relations,  for  comforts,  for  toilets,  for 
visits,  for  luxuries,  for  five  o'clocks,  for  lawn-tennis  with 
Kopovski,  —  in  a  word,  for  that  mill  in  which  life  is 
ground  into  bran." 

"This  may  not  fit  Panna  Castelli,  and  if  it  does  not,  so 
much  the  better  for  Pan  Ignas,"  said  Bigiel;  "but  in  general 
it  is  pointed." 

"No,"  said  Pani  Bigiel,  "that  first  of  all  is  wicked;  in 
truth,  you  hate  women." 

"  I  hate  women !  "  exclaimed  Svirski,  raising  his  hands 
toward  heaven. 

"  Do  you  not  see  that  you  are  making  Panna  Castelli  a 
common  little  goose  ?  " 

"  I  gave  her  lessons  in  painting,  but  I  have  never  been 
occupied  in  her  education." 

Marynia,  hearing  all  this,  said,  threatening  Svirski,  — 

"It  is  wonderful  that  such  a  kind  man  should  have  such 
a  wicked  tongue." 

"  There  is  a  certain  justice  in  that,"  answered  Svirski ; 
"and  more  than  once  have  I  asked,  am  I  really  a  kind 
man  ?  But  I  think  that  I  am.  For  there  are  people  who 
calumniate  their  neighbors  through  a  love  for  digging  in 
the  mud,  and  that  is  vile ;  there  are  others  who  do  this 
through  jealousy,  and  that  is  equally  vile.  Such  a  man  as 
Bukatski  talks  even  for  a  conceit;  but  I,  first  of  all,  am 
talkative ;  second,  a  human  being,  and  especially  a  woman, 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  507 

interests  me  more  than  aught  else  in  existence  ;  and,  finally, 
the  shabbiness  and  flatness  and  petty  vanities  of  human 
nature  pain  me  terribly.  And,  as  God  lives,  it  is  because 
1  could  wish  that  all  women  had  wings;  but  since  I  see 
that  many  of  them  have  only  tails,  I  begin,  from  amaze- 
ment alone,  to  shout  in  a  heaven-piercing  voice  —  " 

"  But  why  do  you  not  shout  in  the  same  way  against 
men  ?  "  inquired  Pani  Bigiel. 

"  Oh,  let  the  men  go  !  What  do  I  care  for  them  ? 
Though,  to  speak  seriously,  we  deserve  perhaps  to  be 
shouted  at  more  than  the  ladies." 

Here  Pani  Bigiel  and  Marynia  attacked  the  unfortunate 
artist ;  but  he  defended  himself,  and  continued,  — 

"  Well,  ladies,  take  su(!h  a  man  as  Pan  Ignas,  and  such  a 
woman  as  Panna  Castelli :  he  has  worked  hard  since  his 
childhood  ;  he  has  struggled  with  difficulties,  thought  hard, 
given  something  to  the  world  already, — but  what  is  she? 
A  real  canary  in  a  cage.  They  give  the  bird  water,  sugar, 
and  seed  ;  it  has  only  to  clean  its  yellow  plumage  with  its 
little  bill,  and  twitter.  Or  is  this  not  true  ?  We  work  im- 
mensely, ladies.  Civilization,  science,  art,  bread,  and  all 
on  which  the  world  stands  is  absolutely  our  work.  And 
that  is  a  marvellous  work.  Oh,  it  is  easy  to  talk  of  it,  but 
difficult  to  do  it.  Is  it  right,  or  is  it  natural,  that  men  push 
you  aside  from  this  work  ?  I  do  not  know,  and  at  this 
moment  it  is  not  for  me  a  question  ;  but  taking  the  world 
in  general,  only  one  thing  has  remained  to  you,  —  loving; 
therefore  you  should  know,  at  least,  how  to  love." 

Here  his  dark  face  took  on  an  expression  of  great  mild- 
ness, and  also,  as  it  were,  melancholy. 

"  Take  me,  for  example ;  I  am  working  apparently  for 
this  art  of  ours.  Twenty-five  years  have  1  been  daubing  and 
daubing  with  a  brush  on  paper  or  on  canvas ;  and  God  alone 
knows  how  I  slaved,  how  I  toiled  before  I  worked  anything 
out  of  myself.  Now  I  feel  as  much  alone  in  the  world  as  a 
finger.  But  what  do  I  want  ?  This,  that  the  Lord  God, 
for  all  this  toil,  might  vouchsafe  me  some  honest  little 
woman,  who  would  love  me  a  little  and  be  grateful  for  ray 
affection." 

"  And  why  do  you  not  marry  ?  " 

"Why?"  answered  Svirski,  with  a  certain  outburst. 
"Because  I  am  afraid  ;  because  of  you,  one  in  ten  knows  how 
to  love,  though  you  have  nothing  else  to  do."       _ 

Further  discourse  was  interrupted  by  the  coming  of  Pan 


508  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

Plavitski  and  Pani  Mashko;  she,  in  a  dark  blue  foulard 
dress  with  white  spots,  looked  from  afar  like  a  butterifly. 
Pan  Plavitski  looked  like  a  butterfly  also  5  and,  approaching 
the  veranda,  he  began  to  cry  out,  — 

"  I  seized  Pani  Mashko,  and  brought  her.  Good-evening 
to  the  company ;  good-evening,  Maryuia !  I  was  coming 
here  to  you  on  a  droshky  till  I  saw  this  lady  standing  out 
on  the  balcony ;  then  I  seized  her,  and  we  came  on  foot. 
I  dismissed  the  droshky,  thinking  that  you  would  send  me 
home." 

Those  present  began  to  greet  Pani  Mashko ;  and  she,  ruddy 
from  the  walk,  fell  to  explaining  joyously,  while  removing 
her  hat  from  her  ash-colored  hair,  that  really  Pan  Plavit- 
ski had  brought  her  away  almost  by  force;  for,  awaiting 
the  return  of  her  husband,  she  did  not  like  to  leave  home. 
Pan  Plavitski  pacified  her  by  saying  that  her  husband,  not 
finding  her  at  home,  would  guess  where  she  was,  and  for 
the  flight  and  the  lonely  walk  he  would  not  be  angry,  for 
that  was  not  the  cit}',  where  people  raise  scandal  for  any 
cause  (here  he  smoothed  his  white  shirt-front  with  the  mien 
of  a  man  who  would  not  be  at  all  astonished  if  scandal  were 
roused  touching  him) ;  "  but  the  country  has  its  own  rights, 
and  permits  us  to  disregard  etiquette." 

When  he  had  said  this,  he  looked  slyly  at  Pani  Mashko, 
rubbed  his  hands,  and  added,  — 

"  Ha,  ha !  the  country  has  its  rights ;  I  said  well,  has  its 
rights,  and  so  there  is  no  place  for  me  like  the  country." 

Pani  Mashko  laughed,  feeling  that  the  laugh  was  becom- 
ing, and  that  some  one  might  admire  her.  But  Bigiel,  who, 
being  himself  a  strict  reasoner,  demanded  logic  from  all, 
turned  to  Plavitski,  and  said,  — 

"  If  there  is  no  place  like  the  country,  why  do  you  not 
move  out  of  the  city  in  summer  ?  " 

"  How  do  you  say  ?  "  asked  Plavitski.  "  Why  do  I  not 
move  out  ?  Because  in  the  city,  on  one  side  of  the  street 
there  is  sun,  and  on  the  other  shade.  If  I  wish  to  warm 
myself,  I  walk  in  the  sun  ;  if  it  is  hot  for  me,  I  walk  in  the 
shade.  There  is  no  place  in  summer  like  the  city.  I  wanted 
to  go  to  Karlsbad,  but  —  " 

Here  he  was  silent  for  a  moment ;  and,  remembering  only 
then  that  what  he  was  giving  to  understand  might  expose 
a  young  woman  to  the  evil  tongues  of  people,  he  looked 
with  a  gloomy  resignation  on  those  present,  and  added,  — 

"Is  it  worth  while  to  think  of  that  pair  of  years  left  of 
my  life,  that  are  of  no  value  to  me,  or  to  any  one  ?  " 


CHILDREN  OF  THE   SOU..  509 

"  Here  it  is  ! "  cried  Marynia.  "If  papa  will  not  go  to 
Karlsbad,  he  will  drink  Millbrun  with  us  in  Buchynek." 

"  In  what  Buchynek  ?  "  asked  Plavitski. 

"  True,  we  jnust  announce  la  grande  nouvelle." 

And  she  began  to  tell  that  Buchynek  had  been  found 
and  rented  and  probably  would  be  bought ;  and  that  in  three 
days  she  and  her  husband  would  move  into  that  Buchynek 
for  the  whole  summer. 

Pani  Mashko,  hearing  the  narrative,  raised  her  eyes  to 
Pan  Stanislav  in  wonder,  and  inquired,  — 

"  Then  are  you  really  going  to  leave  us  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  answered  he,  with  a  trace  of  suappishness. 

"  A-a ! " 

And  for  a  while  she  looked  at  him  with  the  glance  of  a 
person  who  understands  nothing  and  asks,  "  What  does 
all  this  mean?"  but,  receiving  no  answer,  she  turned  to 
Marynia  and  began  an  indifferent  conversation.  She  was 
so  instructed  in  the  forms  of  society  that  only  Pan  Stanis- 
lav himself  could  perceive  that  the  news  about  Buchynek 
had  dulled  her.  But  she  had  divined  that  her  person 
might  come  into  question,  and  that  those  sudden  movings 
might  be  in  connection  with  her.  With  every  moment 
that  truth  stood  before  her  with  increasing  clearness,  and 
her  cold  face  took  on  a  still  colder  expression.  Gradu- 
ally a  feeling  of  humiliation  possessed  her.  It  seemed 
to  her  that  Pan  Stanislav  had  done  something  directly 
opposed  to  what  she  had  a  right  to  expect  of  him ;  that 
he  had  committed  a  grave  offence  not  only  against  her, 
but  against  all  those  observances  which  a  man  of  a  cer- 
tain sphere  owes  to  a  woman.  And  her  whole  soul  was 
occupied  in  this  because  it  pained  her  more  than  his  re- 
moval to  Buchynek.  In  certain  cases  women  demand  more 
regard  the  less  it  belongs  to  them,  and  the  more  respect 
the  less  they  are  worthy  of  it,  because  they  need  it  for 
their  own  self-deception,  and  often  too  because  the  infatua- 
tion, or  delicacy,  or  comedian  character  in  men  gives 
women  all  they  demand,  at  least  for  a  season.  Still,  in 
this  intention  of  moving  in  a  few  days  to  the  opposite 
side  of  the  city,  was  involved,  as  it  were,  a  confession  of 
breaking  off  relations  which  was  worthy  of  a  boor.  Faith- 
breaking  has  its  own  style  of  a  posteriori  declaration,  and 
has  it  always,  for  tliere  is  not  on  earth  an  example  of  a 
permanent  relation  resting  on  faithlessness.  But  this  time 
the  rudeness  surpassed  every  measure,  and  the  sowing  had 


610  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

given  an  untimely,  peculiar  harvest.  Pani  Mashko's  mind, 
though  not  very  keen  by  nature,  needed  no  extra  effort  to 
conclude  that  what  had  met  her  was  contempt  simply. 

And  at  this  very  moment  Pan  Stanislav  thought,  "She 
must  have  a  fabulous  contempt  for  me." 

It  did  not  occur  to  them  at  the  time  that  in  the  best 
event  this  contempt  was  a  question  of  time  merely.  But 
Pani  Mashko  caught  after  one  more  hope,  that  this  might 
be  some  misunderstanding,  some  momentary  anger,  some 
excitability  of  a  fantastic  man,  some  offence  which  she 
could  not  explain  to  herself,  —  in  a  word,  something  which 
might  be  less  decisive  than  seemed  apparent.  One  word 
thrown  out  in  answer  might  explain  everything  yet. 
Judging  that  Pan  Stanislav  might  feel  the  need  of  such  a 
conversation,  she  determined  to  get  it  for  him.  Hence 
after  tea  she  began  to  prepare  for  home,  and,  looking  at  Pan 
Stanislav,  said,  — 

"  Now  I  must  request  one  of  the  gentlemen  to  conduct 
me." 

Pan  Stanislav  rose.  His  tired,  and  at  the  same  time 
angry  face,  seemed  to  say  to  her,  "If  'tis  thy  wish  to  have 
the  pure  truth,  thou  wilt  have  it ; "  but  unexpectedly  Bigiel 
changed  the  arrangement  by  saying,  — 

"  The  evening  is  so  pleasant  that  we  can  all  conduct 
you." 

And  they  did.  Plavitski,  considering  himself  the  lady's 
knight  for  that  day,  gave  her  his  arm  with  great  gallantry, 
and  during  the  whole  way  entertained  her  with  conversa- 
tion ;  so  that  Pan  Stanislav,  who  was  conducting  Pani  Bigiel, 
had  no  chance  to  say  one  word  except  "  good-night "  at  the 
gate. 

That  "  good-night "  was  accompanied  by  a  pressure  of 
the  hand  which  was  a  new  inquiry  —  without  an  answer. 
Pan  Stanislav,  for  that  matter,  was  glad  that  he  had  not  to 
give  explanations.  He  could  have  given  only  unclear  and 
disagreeable  ones.  Pani  Mashko  roused  in  him  then  as 
much  mental  distaste  as  physical  attraction,  and  for  both 
those  reasons  he  considered  that  if  he  remained  in  Bigiel's 
house,  she  would  be  too  near  him.  Moreover,  he  had 
sought  Buchynek  and  found  it  chiefly  because  active 
natures,  if  confined  too  much,  are  forced  instinctively  to 
undertake  and  act  even  when  that  which  they  do  is  not  in 
immediate  connection  with  that  which  gives  them  pain. 
He   had  not  the  least   feeling,  however,  that  flight  from 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  511 

dauger  was  equivalent  to  a  return  to  the  road  of  honesty, 
or  even  led  to  it;  it  seemed  to. him  then  that  it  was  too 
late  for  that,  that  honesty  was  a  thing  lost  once  and  for- 
ever. "  To  flee,"  said  he  to  himself ;  « there  was  a  time  to 
flee.  At  present  flight  is  merely  the  egotism  of  a  beast 
disturbed  in  one  lair  and  seeking  another."  Having  be- 
trayed Marynia  to  begin  with,  he  will  betray  Pani  Mashko 
now  out  of  fear  that  the  relation  with  her  may  become  too 
painful ;  and  he  will  betray  her  in  a  manner  as  wretched  as 
it  is  rude,  by  trampling  on  her.  That  is  only  a  new 
meanness,  which  he  permits  himself  like  a  desperado,  in 
the  conviction  that,  no  matter  how  he  may  struggle,  he 
will  sink  into  the  gulf  ever  deeper. 

At  the  bottom  of  these  thoughts  was  hidden,  moreover, 
an  immense  amazement.  If  this  had  happened  to  some 
other  man,  who  took  life  lightly,  such  a  man  might  wave 
his  hand  and  consider  that  one  more  amusing  adventure 
had  met  him.  Pan  Stanislav  understood  that  many  would 
look  on  the  affair  in  that  way  precisely.  But  he  had 
worked  out  in  himself  principles,  he  had  had  them,  and 
he  fell  from  the  whole  height  of  them ;  hence  his  fall  was 
the  greater,  hence  he  thought  to  himself,  "  That  which  I 
won,  that  to  which  I  attained,  is  no  protection  whatever 
from  anything.  Though  a  man  have  what  I  had,  he  may 
break  his  neck  as  quickly  as  if  he  had  nothing."  And  the 
position  seemed  to  him  simply  beyond  understanding. 
Why  is  this  ?  What  is  the  reason  of  it  ?  To  this  question 
he  had  no  answer ;  and,  having  doubted  his  own  honesty 
and  honor,  he  began  now  to  doubt  his  own  intellect,  for 
he  felt  that  he  could  grasp  nothing,  give  no  answer. 

In  general,  he  felt  like  a  man  lost  in  some  mental  wilder- 
ness ;  he  could  recover  nothing,  not  even  attachment  to  his 
wife.  It  seemed  to  him  that,  having  lost  in  himself  all 
human  sides,  he  had  lost  at  the  same  time  the  power  and 
right  to  love  her.  With  no  less  astonishment  did  he  see 
that  in  the  bottom  of  his  heart  he  cherished  a  feeling  of 
offence  against  her  for  his  own  fall.  Up  to  that  time  he  had 
not  injured  any  one ;  hence  he  could  not  have  known  that 
usually  a  man  has  a  feeling  of  offence  and  even  hatred 
against  a  person  whom  he  has  wronged.  ^ 

Meanwhile  the  society,  after  taking  farewell  of  Pam 
Mashko,  returned  home.  Marynia  walked  at  her  husband  s 
side  ;  but,  supposing  that  he  was  occupied  in  calculations 
touching  the  purchase  of  the  place,  and  remembering  ti^ 


512  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

he  did  not  like  to  be  interrupted  in  such  cases,  she  did 
not  break  the  silence.  The  evening  was  so  warm  that 
after  returning  they  remained  some  time  on  the  veranda. 
Bigiel  tried  to  detain  Svirski  for  the  night,  saying  in  jest 
that  such  a  Hercules  could  not  find  room  in  his  little 
brichka  with  Plavitski.  Pan  Stanislav,  to  whom  the 
presence  of  any  guest  was  convenient,  supported  Bigiel. 

"  Remain,"  said  he.  "  I  am  going  to  the  city  to-morrow 
morning;   we  can  go  then  together." 

''  But  I  am  in  a  hurry  to  paint.  To-morrow  I  wish  to 
begin  work  early,  and  if  I  stay  here  there  will  be  delay." 

*'  Have  you  any  work  to  be  finished  on  time  ?  "  asked 
Marynia. 

"  No  ;  but  one's  hand  goes  out  of  practice.  Painting  is  a 
kind  of  work  in  which  one  is  never  permitted  to  rest.  I  have 
loitered  much  already,  at  one  time  in  Prytulov,  at  another 
here ;  meanwhile  my  colors  are  drying." 

Both  ladies  began  to  laugh ;  for  that  was  said  by  a  famous 
master,  who  ought  to  be  free  from  fear  that  he  would  forget 
how  to  paint. 

"It  seems  to  people  that  when  a  man  has  reached  a 
certain  skill,  he  owns  it,"  answered  Svirski.  "  It  is  a  won- 
derful thing,  this  human  organism,  which  must  either  ad- 
vance or  fall  back.  I  know  not  if  this  is  so  in  everything, 
but  in  art  it  is  not  permitted  to  say  to  one's  self,  '  This  is 
enough ; '  there  is  no  leave  to  stop.  If  I  cease  to  paint 
for  a  week,  not  only  do  I  lose  adroitness  of  hand,  but  I  do 
not  feel  in  power.  The  hand  dulls, — that  I  can  under- 
stand, —  but  the  artistic  sense  dulls  also ;  talent  simply  dulls. 
I  used  to  think  that  this  was  the  case  only  in  my  career, 
for  in  it  technique  has  enormous  significance ;  but,  will  you 
believe  me,  Snyatinski,  who  writes  for  the  theatre,  told  me 
the  same.  And  in  literature  like  his,  in  what  does  technique 
consist,  if  not  in  this  ?  Not  to  have  any  technique,  or  at  least, 
to  seem  not  to  have  it.  Still,  even  Snyatinski  says  that  he 
may  not  stop,  and  that  he  falls  back  or  advances  in  propor- 
tion to  his  efforts.  The  services  of  art,  —  that  sounds 
beautifully.  Ah,  what  a  dog  service,  in  which  there  is 
never  rest,  never  peace  !  —  nothing  but  toil  and  terror.  Is 
that  the  predestination  of  the  whole  race,  or  are  we  alone 
those  tortured  figures  ?  " 

Svirski,  it  is  true,  did  not  look  like  a  tortured  figure  in 
any  sense ;  he  did  not  fall  into  a  pathetic  tone  either,  com- 
plaining of  his  occupation.  But  in  his  sweeping  words  there 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  613 

was  a  sincerity  wliich  gave  them  power.  After  a  while  he 
raised  his  fist;  and,  shaking  it  at  the  moon,  which  was 
showing  itself  just  then  above  the  forest,  he  cried  out,  half 
in  joy,  half  in  anger,  — 

"  See  that  chubby  face  there !  Once  it  learned  to  go  around 
the  earth,  it  was  sure  of  its  art.  Oh,  to  have  one  moment 
like  that  in  one's  life  !  " 

Marynia  began  to  laugh,  and,  raising  her  eyes  unwittingly 
in  the  direction  of  Svirski's  hand,  said,  — 

"Do  not  complain.  It  is  not  merely  artists  who  are  not 
free  to  stop ;  whether  we  work  on  a  picture,  or  on  ourselves, 
it  is  all  one,  we  must  work  every  hour,  otherwise  life  is 
injured." 

'*  There  is  immense  need  of  work,"  interrupted  Plavitski, 
with  a  sigh. 

But  Marynia  continued,  seeking  a  comparison  with  some 
eifort,  and  raising  her  brows  at  the  same  time, — 

"  And  you  see,  if  any  man  were  to  say  to  himself,  even 
for  a  moment,  'I  am  wise  enough,  and  good  enough,'  that 
very  saying  would  be  neither  good  nor  wise.  Now  it  seems 
to  me  that  we  are  all  swimming  across  some  deep  place  to  a 
better  shore ;  but  whoso  just  wishes  to  rest  and  stops 
moving  his  hands,  is  drawn  to  the  bottom  by  his  own 
weight." 

'^  Phrases  ! "  exclaimed  Pan  Stanislav,  on  a  sudden. 

But  she,  pleased  with  the  aptness  of  her  comparison, 
answered,  — 

"  No,  Stas,  as  I  love  thee,  they  are  not  phrases." 

"  If  God  would  grant  me  to  hear  such  things  always," 
said  Svirski,  with  animation.  "The  lady  is  perfectly 
right." 

Pan  Stanislav,  in  reality,  was  also  convinced  that  she  was 
right;  and,  what  was  more,  in  that  darkness,  which  sur- 
rounded him,  something  began  to  gleam  like  a  lamp.  He 
was  just  the  man  who  had  said  to  himself,  "I  am  wise 
enough,  I  am  good  enough,  —and  I  can  rest; "  he  was  ]ust 
the  man  who  had  forgotten  that  there  was  need  of  con- 
tinual effort ;  he  had  ceased  to  move  his  hands  over  the 
depth,  and  therefore  his  own  weight  took  him  down  to  the 
bottom.  Such  was  the  case!  All  these  lofty  religious  and 
moral  principles,  which  he  had  gained,  he  had  enclosed  in 
his  soul,  as  a  man  encloses  money  in  a  chest,  — and  t>e  made 
dead  capital  of  them.  He  had  them,  but,  as  it  were,  hidden 
away.  He  fell  into  the  blindness  of  the  miser,  who  cheers 
•^  33 


514  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

himself  with  hoarded  gold,  but  lives  like  a  mendicant.  He 
had  them,  but  he  did  not  live  on  them ;  and,  trusting  in  his 
wealth,  he  imagined  that  his  life  accounts  were  closed,  and 
that  he  might  rest.  But  now  a  gray  dawn,  as  it  were,  began 
in  that  night  which  surrounded  his  thoughts ;  and  out  of  the 
darkness  began  to  rise  toward  him  a  truth  hazy,  and  as  yet 
undefined,  declaring  that  accounts  of  that  sort  could  never 
be  closed,  and  that  life  is  an  immense  daily,  ceaseless  labor, 
which,  as  Marynia  had  said,  ends  only  there,  somewhere  on 
the  other  and  better  shore. 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  515 


CHAPTER  LIII. 

"My  dear  Pan  Ignas,  why  do  you  not  dress  like  Pan 
Kopovski?"  asked  Pani  Bronich.  "Naturally,  Nitechka 
values  your  poetry  more  than  all  costumes  on  earth ;  but  you 
will  not  believe  how  aesthetic  that  child  is,  and  what  per- 
fect knowledge  she  has  in  such  matters.  Yesterday,  the 
poor  dear  came  to  me  with  such  a  pretty  face  that  if  you 
had  seen  her  you  would  have  melted.  'Aunt,'  said  she. 
*  why  does  Pan  Ignas  not  have  white  flannel  costumes  in  thf- 
morning  ?  It  is  so  elegant  for  all  gentlemen  to  be  in  such 
costumes.'  Have  something  like  that  made ;  she  will  he  so 
glad.  You  see  that  Yozio  Osnovski  too  has  a  flannel  suit  • 
he  has  even  a  number"  of  them,  through  attention  to 
Aneta.  These  are  little  things,  I  know ;  but  they  affect  a 
woman  greatly  when  she  considers  what  they  mean.  You 
have  no  idea  how  she  sees  everything.  In  Scheveningen 
all  wear  such  costumes  till  midday ;  and  it  would  be  dis- 
agreeable to  her  if  any  one  should  think  that  you  did  not 
belong  to  society  which  knows  how  to  dress.  You  are  so 
kind,  you  will  buy  such  a  costume ;  will  you  not  ?  You  will 
do  that  for  her  ;  and  you  will  not  take  it  ill  of  me  that  I 
speak  of  what  Nitechka  likes  ?  " 

"Oh,"  said  Pan  Ignas,  "I'll  do  so,  most  willingly." 
"  How  good  you  are  !  But,  what  else  did  I  wish  to  say  ? 
Oh,  yes  I  —  and  a  nice  yellow-leather  travelling-case.  My 
dear  Pan  Ignas,  Nitechka  loves  immensely  nice  travelling- 
cases  ;  and  abroad,  as  a  man  looks,  so  is  he  valued.  Yester- 
day —  I  will  tell  you  this  as  a  secret  —  we  looked  at  Pan 
Kopovski's  travelling-case.  It  is  very  nice,  and  in  perfect 
taste,  bought  in  Dresden.  It  pleased  Nitechka  much.  Look 
at  it,  and  buy  one  something  in  that  style.  I  beg  pardon  of 
you  for  entering  into  this  matter,  but  this  is  a  trifle.  You 
see,  I  know  women  in  general,  and  I  know  Nitechka.  There 
is  no  better  way  with  her  than  to  yield  in  little  things. 
When  it  comes  to  great  ones,  she  will  give  up  everything. 
Besides,  you  have  heard  what  chances  of  marriage  she  had, 
and  still  she  chose  you.  Show  her,  then,  gratitude  even  in 
small  things.  Have  you  not,  as  a  student  of  character, 
noticed  that  natures  capable  of  great  sacrifice  reserve  them- 


616  CHILDREN   OF   THE   SOIL. 

selves  for  exceptional  occasions;  but  in  every-day  life  they 
like  to  be  gratified." 

"  Perhaps  I  have  not  thought  of  this  so  far." 

"  Oh,  it  is  true  beyond  doubt,  and  that  is  just  Nitechka's 
nature.  But  you  are  not  in  a  position  to  kuow  what  kind 
of  a  nature  she  has,  though  you  should  know,  for  the  reason 
that  she  chose  you.  But  you  men  are  not  able  to  perceive 
so  many  shades  of  feeling.  If  it  should  come  to  some  crisis, 
you  would  see  that  in  her  there  is  not  one  trace  of  selfish- 
ness. May  the  Lord  God  preserve  her  from  every  trial !  but 
should  it  come  to  anything,  you  would  see." 

"I  know  that  you  esteem  Panna  Nitechka,"  said  Pan 
Ignas,  with  certain  animation  ;  "  but  still  you  do  not  think 
so  much  good  of  her  as  I  do." 

"Ah,  how  I  love  you  when  you  say  things  like 
that!"  cried  Pani  Bronich,  with  delight.  "Mj^  dear!  But, 
if  it  is  thus,  then  I  will  whisper  still  more  in  your  ear :  she 
loves  passionately  that  gentlemen  should  wear  black  silk 
stockings ;  but  remember  that  one  look  is  enough  for  her 
to  see  what  is  silk  and  what  is  Scotch  thread.  My  God !  do 
not  suppose  that  I  wish  to  mix  in  everything.  No  one  is 
able  to  keep  away  so  well  as  I ;  but  it  is  only  a  question 
of  this,  —  that  Nitechka  should  never  think  that  you  are 
not  equal  to  others  in  any  regard  whatever.  What 's  to  be 
done?  You  are  marrying  a  real  artist,  who  loves  that  every- 
thing around  her  should  be  beautiful.  And,  in  truth,  she 
will  not  be  so  poor  as  not  to  have  a  right  to  this.  Will 
she  ?  " 

Pan  Ignas  took  out  his  notebook,  and  said,  — 

"I  will  write  down  your  orders,  so  as  not  to  forget 
them." 

There  was  a  shade  of  irony  in  what  he  said.  Pani 
Bronich,  with  her  excess  of  words,  her  manner  of  talking, 
and  especially  her  evident  infatuation  for  things  of  excep- 
tional superfluity,  had  made  him  impatient  very  often. 
Pan  Ignas  was  offended  by  a  certain  parvenu  element  in 
her  nature.  Since  he  did  not  see  what  palaces  sfae  was 
building  with  the  property  of  old  Zavilovski,  he  was 
unable  to  understand  that  a  sensitive  woman  could  be  so 
unceremonious  with  him  in  demands  for  "Nitechka  "  when 
it  was  a  question  of  the  style  of  their  future  life.  He  had 
supposed  previously  that  it  would  be  just  the  opposite, 
and  that  those  ladies  would  be  even  over-scrupulous  and 
delicate;   this  was   his   first   disillusion.        On    the   other 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  517 

hand,  he  was  pained  by  the  bad  taste  with  which  Pani 
Bronich  mentioned  almost  daily  the  great  matches  which 
"Nitechka"  might  have  made,  and  also  her  self-denials  for 
his  sake;  these  self-denials  had  not  taken  place  yet.  Pan 
Ignas  did  not  over-estimate  himself,  but  also  he  did  not 
carry  his  head  lower  than  was  needful;  and  with  that 
which  was  in  him  he  considered  himself  not  a  worse,  but 
a  better  match  than  such  men  as  Kopovski,  and  the 
various  Colimaqaos,  Kanafaropuloses,  and  similar  operatic 
lay  figures,  fie  was  indignant  at  the  very  thought  that 
they  dared  to  compare  these  men  with  him,  especially  to 
his  disadvantage.  Having  poetry  and  love  in  his  soul,  he 
judged  that  he  had  that  which  even  princes  of  this  world 
cannot  command  always.  What  his  every-day  life  with 
Lineta  would  be,  of  that  he  had  not  thought  much  hitherto, 
or  had  thought  in  a  general  way  onl}';  but  feeling  strong, 
and  being  ready  to  seize  every  fate  by  the  forelock,  he 
trusted  that  it  would  be  agreeable.  To  chaffer  with  this 
future  he  had  no  intention;  and  when  Pani  Bronich  ex- 
pressed wishes  like  these,  he  had  to  restrain  himself  from 
telling  her  that  they  seemed  to  him  vulgar. 

Svirski,  when  stopping  at  Prytulov,  gave  out  once  the 
striking  opinion  that  love  was  not  blind  altogether,  but 
only  suffering  from  daltonism.  Pan  Ignas  thought  that 
the  painter  had  Osnovski  in  mind,  and  did  not  suspect 
that  he  himself  was  a  perfect  example  of  a  man  subject 
to  the  infirmity  mentioned.  He  was  blind,  however,  only 
in  reference  to  Lineta;  except  her  he  saw  and  observed 
everything  with  greater  readiness  than  others.  And  cer- 
tain observations  tilled  him  with  astonishment.  Omitting 
his  observations  on  Pani  Aneta,  her  Yozio,  and  Kopovski, 
he  noticed,  for  example,  that  his  own  relations  with  Pani 
Bronich  began  to  change;  and  from  the  time  that  he  had 
become  near  to  her,  and  she  had  grown  accustomed  to  him, 
and  confidential,  as  with  a  future  relative,  and  the  future 
husband  of  "Nitechka,"  she  began  to  have  less  esteem  for 
his  person,  his  work,  and  his  talent.  To  an  ordinary  eye 
this  was  invisible,  perhaps,  but  to  Pan  Ignas  it  was  clear, 
though  be  could  not  explain  its  origin.  The  future  alone 
was  to  teach  him  that  common  natures,  by  contact  with  per- 
sons or  things  which  are  higher,  lose  esteem  for  them  through 
this  familiarity,  as  if  showing  involuntarily  that  what- 
ever becomes  near  to  them  must  thereby  be  infected  with 
vulgarity  and  meanness,  and  cannot,  for  that  very  reason, 


518  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

continue  lofty.  Meanwhile  Pani  Bronich  disenchanted 
him  more  and  more.  He  was  impatient  at  that  convenient 
"Teodor,"  whose  role  it  was  to  shield  with  his  dignity 
from  beyond  the  tomb  every  act  of  hers;  he  was  amazed 
at  that  bird-like  mobility  of  her  mind  which  seized  on 
the  wing  everything  from  the  region  of  the  good  and  tlie 
beautiful,  and  turned  it  at  once  into  empty  and  meaning- 
less phrases. 

Besides,  her  enormous  ill-will  for  people  astonished  liim. 
Pani  Bronich,  almost  servile  in  presence  of  old  Zavilovski, 
spoke  of  him  with  animosity  in  private;  Panna  Helena  she 
simply  disliked;  of  Pani  Kraslavski  and  Pani  Mashko  she 
spoke  with  endless  irony;  of  the  Bigiels,  with  contempt; 
more  specially  salt  in  her  eye  was  Marynia.  3he  listened 
to  the  praises  rendered  Marynia  by  Svirski,  Pan  Ignas, 
and  Osnovski  with  the  same  impatience  as  if  they  had 
been  detractions  from  Lineta.  Pan  Ignas  convinced  him- 
self that,  in  truth,  Pani  Bronich  cared  for  no  one  on  earth 
except  "  Nitechka."  But  just  this  love  made  up  in  liis  mind 
for  all  her  disagreeable  peculiarities;  he  did  not  under- 
stand yet  that  such  a  feeling,  when  associated  with  hate 
and  exclusiveness,  instead  of  widening  the  heart,  makes 
it  narrow  and  dry,  and  is  merely  a  two-headed  selfishness, 
and  that  such  selfishness  may  be  as  rude  and  harsh  as 
if  one-headed.  Loving  Lineta  himself  with  his  whole 
soul,  and  feeling  better  and  kinder  from  the  time  that  he 
had  begun  thus  to  love  her,  he  considered  that  a  person 
who  loved  really  could  not  be  evil  at  heart;  and  in  the 
name  of  their  common  love,  "Nitechka,"  he  forgave  Pani 
Bronich  all  her  shortcomings. 

But  with  reference  to  Lineta,  that  quick  observer  could 
not  see  anything.  The  strongest  men  make  in  love  so 
many  unhappy  mistakes  for  one  reason,  —  that  they  array 
the  beloved  in  all  their  own  sunbeams,  not  accounting  to 
themselves  afterward  that  this  glory  with  which  they  are 
blinded  has  been  put  by  themselves  there.  So  it  was  with 
Pan  Ignas.  Lineta  became  accustomed  more  and  more 
every  day  to  him,  and  to  her  own  role  of  betrothed.  The 
thought  that  he  had  distinguished  her,  raised  her  above 
others,  chosen  her,  loved  her,  from  having  been,  as  once, 
a  continual  living  source  of  satisfaction  to  her  vanity 
and  pride,  was  beginning  to  lose  the  charm  of  novelty, 
and  grow  common.  Everything  which  it  was  possible  to 
win  from  it  for  her  own  personal  glory  had  been  won  by 


CHILDREN  OF  THK  SOIL.  519 

the  aid  of  Aunt  Bronich.  The  admiration  of  people  had 
been  also  "juggled  out"  of  it,  as  Svirski  said;  and  the 
statue  was  so  near  her  eyes  now  that,  instead  of  taking 
in  the  whole,  she  began  to  discover  defects  in  the  marble. 
At  moments  yet,  under  the  influence  of  the  opinion  or 
admiration  of  others,  she  regained  the  recollection  and 
knowledge  of  its  proportions;  but  she  was  seized  by  a 
kind  of  astonishment  that  that  man  in  love  with  her,  look- 
ing into  her  eyes,  and  obedient  to  every  beck  of  hers,  was 
that  Zavilovski  over  whom  even  Svirski  loses  his  head, 
and  whom  such  a  man  as  Osnovski  esteems  as  some 
precious  public  treasure.  She  could  send  him  at  any 
moment  for  fresh  strawberries,  if  she  wished,  or  for  yarn; 
the  knowledge  of  this  caused  her  a  certain  pleasure,  hence 
he  was  needed.  She  admired  her  own  power  in  him,  and 
sometimes  she  detailed  to  him  impressions  of  this  kind 
quite  sincerely. 

Once,  when  they  went  out  to  damp  fields,  Pan  Ignas 
returned  for  her  overshoes.  Kneeling  by  an  alder-tree,  he 
put  them  on  her  feet,  which  he  kissed.  Then  she,  looking 
at  that  head  bent  to  her  feet,  said, — 

"People  think  you  a  great  man,  but  you  put  on  my 
overshoes." 

Pan  Ignas  raised  his  eyes  to  her,  and,  amused  by  the 
comparison,  answered  joyously,  without  rising  from  his 
knees, — 

"Because  I  love  immensely." 

"That  is  all  right;  but  I  am  curious  to  know  what  people 
would  say  of  it?" 

And  the  last  question  seemed  to  occupy  her  most  of  all-, 
but  Pan  Ignas  quarrelled  that  moment  with  her  because 
she  said  "you"  to  him,  but  he  did  not  notice,  however, 
that,  in  her  "that  is  all  right,"  there  was  that  peculiar 
indifference  with  which  things  too  familiar  or  less  im- 
portant are  slipped  over.  With  a  similar  half-attention 
she  heard  what  he  said  then,  — that  not  being  vain,  he 
considers  himself  a  man  like  his  fellows,  but  that  he 
respects  his  career,  and  counts  a  life  the  greatest  happiness 
in  which  it  is  possible  to  serve  loftily,  and  love  simply. 
In  the  feeling  of  this  happiness  he  embraced  her  witn  nis 
arm,  so  as  to  have  his  simple  love  as  near  his  breast  as  pos- 
sible.  But  when  his  prominent  chin  pushed  forward  stm 
more,  as  happened  whenever  he  spoke  with  enthusiasm, 
Lineta  begged  him  to  leave  off  the  habit,  as  it  made  him 


520  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

look  stern,  aud  she  liked  joyous  faces  around  her.  While 
her  hand  was  in  now,  she  reminded  him  also  that  yester- 
day, when  they  were  sailing  over  the  pond,  and  he  was 
tired  after  rowing,  he  breathed  very  loudly.  She  did  not 
like  to  tell  him  then  how  that  "acted  on  her  nerves." 
Any  little  thing  "acts  on  her  nerves;"  but  nothing  acts 
like  some  one  who  is  tired,  and  breathes  loudly  near 
her. 

Saying  this,  she  took  off  her  hat  and  began  to  fan  her 
face.  The  breeze  raised  her  bright  hair;  and  in  the  green 
shade  of  the  alder-trees,  quivering  in  the  sun,  which  shone 
in  through  the  leaves,  she  looked  like  a  vision.  Fan  Ignas 
delighted  his  eyes  with  her,  and  in  her  words  admired, 
above  all,  the  charm  of  a  spoiled  child.  There  was  per- 
haps something  more  in  them ;  but  he  neither  sought  nor 
found  it,  just  because  his  love,  with  all  its  force,  was 
simple. 

Simplicity,  however,  does  not  exclude  loftiness.  Lineta 
had,  in  fact,  clung  like  a  spider-web  to  the  wings  of  the 
bird,  which,  in  spite  of  her,  bore  her  to  heights  where  one 
had  to  feel  every  movement  with  the  heart,  to  divine  all,  to 
understand  all,  and  where  even  the  mind  must  exert  itself 
to  give  expression  to  feeling.  But  Lineta  was  "  so  lazy,''  — 
she  had  said  so  on  a  time  to  her  soarer,  who  at  present  did 
not  even  suspect  that  those  heights  merely  made  her  tired 
and  dizzy,  nothing  more. 

It  happened  to  her  now  oftener  and  oftener  to  wake  in 
the  morning,  and  remember  that  she  must  meet  her  be- 
trothed, that  she  must  tune  herself  up  to  his  high  note; 
and  this  gave  her  the  feeling  that  a  child  has,  for  whom  a 
hard  lesson  is  waiting.  She  had  recited  that  lesson  al- 
ready; she  had  answered  more  or  less  everything  which 
had  been  taught  her;  and  she  judged  that  her  betrothed 
ought  to  give  a  vacation  now.  Finally,  she  had  enough 
of  all  those  uncommonnesses,  both  of  herself  and  of  others, 
those  original  sayings,  those  apt  answers,  with  which  she 
had  campaigned  in  society  so  far.  She  felt,  moreover,  that 
the  supply  was  exhausted,  that  the  bottom  of  the  well 
could  be  seen.  There  remained  to  her  yet  only  certain 
artistic  feelings,  and  that  unendurable  "  Pan  Ignas  "  might 
be  satisfied,  if  from  time  to  time  she  showed  him  now  a 
broad  field,  now  a  bit  of  forest,  now  a  strip  of  land  with 
yellow  grain,  as  if  scattered  in  the  light,  and  said,  "  Beauti- 
ful! beautiful!  "    That  was  easier.    He,  it  is  true,  could  not 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  621 

find  words  to  express  admiration  of  the  artistic  depth  of 
soul  hidden  in  such  a  siugle  word  as  "beautiful;"  but  if 
that  were  true,  what  more  did  he  want?  and  why,  in  con- 
versation, in  feelings,  in  method  of  loving,  did  he  force  her 
to  those  useless  efforts?  If  he  did  not  force  her,  if  that 
came  without  his  knowledge,  so  much  the  worse  for  him, 
that,  being  by  nature  so  abrupt,  he  did  not  even  know  it. 
in  such  a  case  let  him  talk  with  Steftsia  Ratkovski. 

With  "Koposio,"  on  the  other  hand,  there  was  no  need 
of  effort;  his  society  was  real  rest  for  Lineta.  The  mere 
sight  of  him  made  her  gladsome,  called  out  a  smile  on  her 
face,  inclined  her  to  jesting.  It  is  true  that  Pan  Stanislav 
had  once  in  his  life  been  jealous  of  Kopovski;  but  to  Pan 
Ignas,  a  man  who  lived  a  mental  life  far  more  exclusively, 
and  therefore  measured  everything  with  a  measure  purely 
mental,  it  did  not  even  occur  that  a  maiden  so  spiritualized 
and  so  "wise  "  as  "Nitechka,"  could  for  a  moment  consider 
Kopovski  as  other  than  a  subject  for  witticisms,  which 
she  permitted  herself  continually.  Had  not  Pani  Bronich, 
in  spite  of  all  her  mental  shallowness,  grown  indignant 
at  the  mere  hint  of  giving  Lineta  to  Kopovski?  What 
Pan  Ignas  had  seen  between  Kopovski  and  Pani  Aneta 
was  no  lesson,  for  he  considered  his  "Nitechka"  as  the 
opposite  pole  of  Aneta.  "Nitechka,"  besides,  had  chosen 
him,  and  he  was  the  antithesis  of  Kopovski ;  that  alone  set 
aside  every  doubt.  "Nitechka"  amused  herself  with 
"Koposio,"  painted  him,  conversed  with  him,  though  Pan 
Ignas  could  not  exhaust  his  astonishment  at  this,  — how 
she  could  avoid  falling  asleep  while  he  talked;  she  joked 
with  him,  she  followed  him  with  a  look  of  amusement,  — 
but  only  because  she  Avas  a  child  yet,  needing  moments  of 
amusement,  and  even  of  vanity.  But  no  one  saw  better 
than  she  his  whole  measureless 'stupidity,  and  no  one  spoke 
of  it  more  frequently.  How  often  had  she  ridiculed  it  to 
Pan  Ignas !  • 

Not  all  eyes,  however,  looked  at  this  amusement  of  hers 
in  that  way,  and,  above  all,  Pani  Aneta  looked  at  it  differ- 
ently;  from  time  to  tim£  she  told  her  husband  directly  that 
Castelliwas  coquetting  with  Kopovski;  to  "Yozio"  him- 
self this  seemed  at  times  to  be  true,  and  he  had  the  wish 
to  send  Kopovski  away  from  Prytulov  politely.  This  Pani 
Aneta  would  not  permit:  "Since  he  is  paying  attention  to 
Steftsia,  we  have  no  right  to  hinder  that  poor  girl  s  tor- 
tune."     Osnovski  was  sorry  to  lose  that  dear  Steftsia  on 


622  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

Kopovski;  but  since,  in  fact,  slie  had  no  property,  and 
since  Aneta  wished  the  match,  he  would  not  oppose  it. 

But  he  was  not  able  to  control  himself  from  astonish- 
ment and  indignation  at  Castelka :  "  To  have  such  a  man 
fts  Ignas,  and  coquet  with  such  a  fool;  to  act  so,  a  woman 
must  be  a  soulless  puppet  surely."  At  first  he  could  not 
understand  it.  On  the  hypothesis,  however,  that  Aneta 
must  have  been  mistaken,  he  began  to  observe  the  young 
lady  diligently;  and  since,  aside  from  his  personal  relation 
to  his  wife,  he  was  not  by  any  means  dull-witted,  he  saw 
a  number  of  things  which,  in  view  of  his  friendship  for 
Pan  Ignas,  disquieted  him  greatly.  He  did  not  admit,  it 
is  true,  that  anything  might  take  place  to  change  the  posi- 
tion; but  he  asked  himself  what  Ignas's  future  would  be 
with  a  woman  who  knew  so  little  how  to  value  him,  and 
who  was  so  slightly  developed  morally  that  she  not  only 
found  pleasure  in  the  society  of  such  a  brainless  fop,  but 
allowed  herself  to  turn  his  head,  and  allure  him. 

"Anetka  judges  others  by  herself,"  thought  Osnovski, 
*'and  has  really  deceived  herself,  ascribing  certain  deep 
feelings  to  Castelka.  Castelka  is  a  puppet;  and,  if  spirits 
like  Anetka  and  Ignas  do  not  come,  nothing  rouses  her." 
In  this  way  that  unfortunate  man,  affected  with  the 
daltonism  of  love,  while  discovering  truth  on  one  side, 
fell  into  greater  and  greater  error  on  the  other.  On 
"Castelka,"  therefore,  he  looked  more  justly  every  day, 
and  needed  no  excessive  effort  to  convince  himself  that  in 
the  relations  of  that  "ideal"  "Nitechka"  with  Kopovski 
there  were  jests,  it  is  true,  there  was  much  contradiction, 
teasing,  even  ridicule ;  but  there  was  also  such  an  irresisti- 
ble weakness,  and  such  an  attraction,  as  women  with  the 
souls  of  milliners  have  for  nice  and  nicely  dressed  young 
men.  The  phenomenal  stupidity  of  Kopovski  seemed  to 
increase  in  country  air;  but  as  a  recompense  the  sun  gilded 
his  delicate  complexion,  through  which  his  eyes  became 
more  expressive,  his  teeth  whiter,  while  the  beard  on  his 
face  was  lighter,  and  gleamed  like  silk.  Indeed,  bright- 
ness shone  not  only  from  his  youth  and  beauty,  but  also 
from  his  linen,  from  his  neckties,  from  his  exquisite  and 
simple  costumes.  In  the  morning,  dressed  for  lawn-tennis, 
in  English  flannel,  he  had  in  him  the  freshness  of  morning 
and  the  dreaminess  of  sleep.  His  slender,  finished  form 
appeared  as  if  fondlingly  through  the  soft  cloth;  and  how 
could  that  bony  Pan  Ignas,  with  his  insolent  Wagner  jaw 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  523 

and  his  long  legs,  be  compared,  in  the  eyes  of  those  ladies, 
with  that  "  mignon  "  who  called  to  mind  at  once  the  gods 
of  Greece  and  the  fashion  sheets,  the  glyptotheks  of 
Italy  and  the  table  d'hotes  of  Biarritz  or  Ostend.  One 
should  be  such  an  original  as  that  still-water  Steftsia 
to  insist,  unless  from  malice,  that  he  was  an  insuifer- 
able  puppet.  Castelka,  it  is  true,  laughed  when  Svirski 
said  that  Kopovski,  especially  wlien  some  question  was 
put  to  him  on  a  sudden,  had  an  expression  in  which  were 
evident  tlie  sixteen  "  quarterings  "  of  stupidity  in  his 
escutcheon,  both  on  the  male  and  female  side.  In  truth, 
he  had  a  somewhat  absent  look,  and,  in  general,  could  not 
understand  at  first  what  people  said  to  him.  But  he  was 
so  joyous,  he  seemed  so  good-natured,  and,  in  spite  of  a 
way  of  thinking  which  was  not  over  elevated,  he  was  so 
well-bred,  beautiful,  and  fresh  that  everything  might  be 
forgiv^en  him. 

Pan  Ignas  deceived  himself  in  thinking  that  only  Pani 
Bronich  was  pining  for  things  of  external  richness,  and 
that  his  betrothed  did  not  even  know  of  those  requests 
with  which  her  aunt  comes.  Castelka  did  know  of  them. 
Having  lost  hope  that  "  Pan  Ignas  "  could  ever  be  equal  to 
Kopovski ,  she  wanted  at  least  that  he  should  approach  him. 
For  things  of  external  richness  she  had  an  inborn  leaning, 
and  "aunt,"  when  begging  Pan  Ignas  to  buy  this  or  that 
for  himself,  merely  carried  out  Lineta's  wishes.  For  her, 
really,  one  glance  was  enough  to  distinguish  silk  from 
Scotch  thread,  and  all  her  soul  was  rushing  instinctively 
to  silk;  for  her  Kopovski  was  among  men  what  silk  is 
among  textures.  Had  it  not  been  for  Pani  Aneta,  who 
restrained  the  young  man,  and  for  the  various  lofty  feel- 
ings which  she  had  talked  into  Lineta,  Lineta,  without 
fail,  would  have  married  Kopovski.  Osnosvki,  knowing 
nothing  of  all  this,  was  even  astonished  that  that  had  not 
taken  place;  for  he,  in  the  end  of  his  observations,  had 
come  to  the  conclusion  that  both  for  Lineta  and  Pan  Ignas 
this  would  have  been  perhaps  better. 

One  day  he  confided  these  thoughts  to  his  wife,  but  she 
grew  angry,  and  said,  with  great  animation, — 

"That  did  not  happen,  because  it  could  not.  No  one  is 
obliged  to  accommodate  himself  to  Yozio's  plans.  I,  first 
of  all,  saw  that  Castelka  was  coquetting  Avith  Kopovski. 
Who  could  know  that  she  was  such  a  nature?  To  be 
betrothed   and   to   coquet  with   other  men,  — that  passes 


524  CHILDREN  OF  THE   SOIL. 

human  understandiug.  But  she  does  it  through  vauity, 
and  through  spite  against  Steftsia  Ratkovksi,  and  maybe 
to  rouse  jealousy  in  Pan  Ignas.  Who  knows  why?  It  is 
easy  for  Yozio  to  talk  now,  and  to  throw  all  the  blame  on 
me  for  having  made  this  marriage;  let  Yozio  remember 
better  how  many  times  he  was  enchanted  with  Castelka, 
how  many  times  he  said  that  hers  was  an  uncommon  nature, 
and  that  just  such  a  one  would  make  Pan  Ignas  happy.  A 
pretty  uncommon  nature!  Now  she  is  coquetting  with 
Kopovski,  and  if  she  were  his  betrothed  she  would  coquet 
with  Pan  Ignas.  Whoever  is  vain,  will  remain  so  forever. 
Yozio  says  that  she  was  fitted  for  Kopovski ;  it  was  neces- 
sary to  have  that  way  of  thinking  at  first,  not  at  present, 
when  she  is  the  betrothed  of  Pan  Ignas.  But  Yozio  says 
this  purposely  to  show  me  what  a  folly  I  committed  in 
helping  Pan  Ignas." 

And  the  whole  affair  was  so  turned  by  Pani  Aneta  that 
Pan  Ignas  and  Castelka  descended  to  the  second  place,  but 
in  the  first  appeared  the  cruelty  and  malice  of  Yozio. 
Osnovski,  however,  began  to  justify  himself,  and,  opening 
his  arms,  said, — 

"  Anetka !  How  canst  thou  even  suppose  that  I  wanted 
to  do  anything  disagreeable  to  thee?  I  know,  besides, 
how  honest  and  cordial  thy  wishes  were;  but  terror  takes 
hold  of  me  when  I  think  of  the  future  of  Ignas,  for  I  love 
him.  I  should  wish  from  the  soul  of  my  heart  that  God 
had  given  him  such  a  person  as  thou  art.  My  dearest 
little  bird,  thou  knowest  that  I  would  rather  lose  my 
tongue  than  say  one  bitter  thing  to  thee.  I  came  to  thee 
so  just  to  talk  and  take  counsel,  for  I  know  that  in  that 
dear  head  of  thine  there  is  always  some  cure  for  every- 
thing." 

When  he  had  said  this,  he  began  to  kiss  her  hands  and 
then  her  arms  and  face  with  great  affection,  and  with 
increasing  enthusiasm;  but  she  turned  her  head  aside, 
twisting  away  from  his  kisses,  and  saying, — 

"Ah,  how  Yozio  is  sweating!  " 

He  was,  in  fact,  almost  always  in  perspiration,  for  he 
played  whole  days  at  tennis,  raced  on  horseback,  rowed, 
wandered  through  fields  and  forests,  to  grow  thin  as  far  as 
was  possible. 

"  Only  tell  me  that  thou  art  not  angry,"  said  he,  dropping 
her  hand,  and  looking  into  her  eyes  tenderly. 

"Well,  I  am  not;  but  what  help  can  I  give?    Let  them 


CHILDREN   OF  THE   SOIL.  625 

go  as  quickly  as  possible  to  Scheveningen,  and  let  Kopovski 
stay  here  with  Steftsia." 

"  See,  thou  hast  found  a  plan.  Let  them  go  at  the  begin- 
ning of  August.  But  hast  thoa  noticed  that  sonuhow 
Steftsia  is  not  very  —  somehow  Kopovski  has  not  pleased 
her  heart  so  far?" 

" Steftsia  is  secretive  as  few  are.  Yozio  doesn't  know 
women." 

"Thou  art  right  surely  in  that.  But  I  even  see  that  she 
doesn't  like  Castelka.  Maybe,  also,  she  is  angry  iti  her 
heart  with  Kopovski,  too." 

"What!"  in(iuired  Aneta,  with  animation,  "has  Yozio 
seen  anything  with  reference   to  Castelka? 

Koposio  laughs  at  her,  for  he  has  good  teeth;  but 
if  I  should  see  anything,  he  wouldn't  be  in  Prytulov. 
Maybe,  too,  Castelka  is  coquetting  with  him,  because  such 
is  her  nature  —  without  knowing  it.  That  itself  is  bad, 
but  that  it  should  go  as  far  as  looking  at  each  other  seri- 
ously, I  don't  believe. 

"  But  it  is  necessary  to  examine  Koposio  as  to  Steftsia. 
Knowest  what,  Yozio?  I  will  go  this  very  day  with  him 
on  horseback  to  Lesnichovka,  and  I  will  talk  with  him 
rather  seriously.       Go  thou  in  another  direction! " 

"  Good,  my  child.       But  see,  thy  head  is  finding  measures 

already!"  ,    ,-,     ,        -ix        \.-i 

Going  out,  he  stopped  on  the  threshold,  thought  a  while, 

and  said, —  ,  , 

"But  how  wonderful  all  this  is!  and  how  it  passes 
understanding!  This  Ignas  catches  everything  on  the 
wing;  and  at  the  same  time  he  worships  Castelka  as  it  she 
were  some  divinity,  and  sees  nothing  and  nothing. 

In  the  afternoon,  when  Kopovski  and  Pani  Aneta  were 
riding  along  the  shady  road  to  the  forest  cottage.  Pan 
Ignas  followed  them  with  his  eyes,  and  looked  at  her 
figure  on  horseback,  outlined  in  the  well-fitting  riding- 
dress.  "She  is  shaped  like  a  slender  pitcher,'  thought  he. 
"But  how  elegant  and  enticing  she  is!  There  is  i"  ^'^^^ 
some  irony  of  life,  that  that  honest  and  kindly  Osnovski 

divines  nothing."  ,.„    .     ^■,    ^   v.  i.    „4.  :„  fi,ot 

And  truly  there  was  irony  of  life  m  that,  but  not  m  that 

only. 


526  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 


CHAPTER  LIV. 

Since  the  day  when  Pani  Aneta  and  Kopovski  mad«>  the 
trip  to  Lesnichovka,  something  had  changed  in  the  social 
relations  of  the  dwellers  in  Prytulov.  Pan  Ignas  looked, 
it  is  true,  as  formerly,  into  the  eyes  of  his  affianced,  and 
was  enchanted  with  her  beyond  measure ;  but  in  her  inter- 
course with  hira  and  with  others  there  was  a  certain  light 
shade  of  ill- humor.  Kopovski  felt  as  if  bound;  he  looked 
at  Lineta  by  stealth  only.  He  approached  her  hurriedly, 
and  only  in  the  absence  of  Pani  Aneta;  but  he  sat  oftener 
near  Panna  Ratkovski,  to  whom  he  spoke,  as  it  were,  with 
his  mind  in  another  place.  Pani  Aneta  was,  moreover, 
more  determined  than  usual;  and,  to  the  great  satisfaction 
of  "Yozio,"  she  extended  now  such  watchful  care  over 
every  affair  in  Prytulov,  that  she  took  Kopovski  aside 
twice  for  personal  explanations.  Lineta's  glance  did  not 
follow  Kopovski  with  that  former  half -gladsome ,  half- 
ironical  freedom ;  but  the  cloudy  eyes  of  Panna  Ratkovski 
turned  to  Pan  Ignas  with  a  certain  sympathy,  —  in  one 
word,  something  had  changed  both  in  looks  and  relations. 

But  those  were  changes  observable  only  to  a  very  quick 
eye,  and  one  accustomed  to  look  at  life  of  that  kind,  in 
which,  for  lack  of  greater  objects  and  severe  daily  labor, 
the  least  shade  of  feelings  and  the  most  subtle  movement  of 
thoughts,  and  even  dispositions,  take  on  not  only  the  form 
of  far-reaching  events,  but  frequently  conceal  the  actual 
germs  of  such  events  in  themselves.  Externally  life  re- 
mained just  the  same  it  had  been;  that  is,  a  kind  of  daily 
festival,  a  May  day,  country  idleness,  interwoven  with 
love,  aesthetic  impressions,  more  or  less  witty  conversa- 
tions, and,  finally,  amusements.  The  arrangement  of  a 
whole  series  of  these  amusements,  to  fill  out  the  day,  was 
the  sole  occupation  which  weighed  on  their  thoughts;  and 
even  this,  for  the  greater  part,  Pan  Osnovski  took  on  him- 
self as  master  of  the  house. 

But  on  a  certain  day  the  uniform  calm  of  that  life  was 
broken  by  a  thunderbolt,  under  the  form  of  two  black- 
bordered  envelopes  addressed  to  Osnovski  and  Pan  Ignas. 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  527 

When  they  were  brought  in ,  the  whole  society  was  at  after- 
dinner  coiiee;  and  the  eyes  of  the  ladies  were  turned  with 
curiosity  and  alarm  at  the  readers,  who,  taking  cards  from 
the  unsealed  envelopes,  cried  almost  simultaneously, — 

"  Pan  Zavilovski  is  dead !  " 

The  news  made  a  deep  impression.  Pani  Bronich,  as 
a  person  of  the  old  school,  and  remembering  those  days 
when  the  coming  of  a  courier  in  the  country  obliged  the 
most  sensitive  ladies  to  faint,  even  before  it  was  known 
what  the  courier  had  brought,  fell  into  a  kind  of  numbness, 
joined  to  loss  of  speech;  Panna  Ratkovski,  who  had  spent 
some  time  at  Pan  Zavilovski's,  and  cherished  great  friend- 
ship for  him  and  his  daughter,  grew  pale  in  real  earnest; 
Panna  Liueta,  seizing  Pani  Bronich's  hand,  tried  to  restore 
her  to  consciousness,  whispering,  "  Voyons,  chere,  tu  n'es 
pas  raisonnahle  !  "  Pani  Aneta,  as  if  wishing  to  verify  with 
her  own  eyes  the  substance  of  the  announcement,  took  the 
card  from  her  husband's  hands,  and  read, — 

"  The  respected  Pan  Eustachius  Zavilovski  departed  this  life  on 
the  25th  day  of  July.  His  grief-stricken  daughter  invites  relatives 
and  friends  to  the  funeral,  at  the  parish  church  in  Yasmen,  on  the 
28th  day  of  the  current  month." 

Then  followed  a  moment  of  silence,  which  was  broken 
by  Pan  Ignas. 

•'I  knew  him  little,"  said  he,  "and  was  prepossessed 
against  him  once;  but  now  I  grieve  for  him  sincerely,  for 
I  know  that  at  heart  he  was  a  worthy  man." 

"And  he  loved  thee  sincerely,"  answered  Osnovski.  "I 
have  proofs  of  that." 

Pani  Bronich,  who,  during  this  time,  had  recovered, 
declared  that  those  proofs  might  appear  now  in  their 
fulness,  and  that  the  heart  of  the  deceased  would  very- 
likely  prove  itself  still  greater  than  they  imagined.  "Pan 
Eustachius  always  loved  Niteehka  much,  and  such  a  man 
cannot  be  malicious."  At  times  he  had  reminded  her  —  that 
is,  Pani  Bronich  —  of  Teodor ,  and  therefore  she  had  become 
so  attached  to  him.  He  was,  it  is  true,  as  abrupt  on  occa- 
sions as  Teodor  was  gentle  at  all  times ;  but  both  had  that 
honesty  of  spirit  which  the  Lord  God  is  best  able  to  value. 

Then  she  turned  to  "Nitechka,"  reminding  her  that  the 
least  emotion  would  add  to  the  sinking  of  her  heart,  and 
begging  her  to  strive  this  time  not  to  yield  to  innate  sensi- 


528  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

tiveness.  Pan  Ignas,  too,  with  the  feeling  that  a  common 
sorrow  had  struck  him  and  Lineta  for  the  first  time,  began 
to  kiss  her  hands.  This  state  of  mind  was  broken  by 
Kopovski,  who  said,  as  if  in  meditation  on  the  transitory 
nature  of  human  affairs ,  — 

"I  am  curious  to  know  what  Panna  Helena  will  do  with 
the  pipes  left  hj  her  father." 

In  fact,  the  old  noble's  pipes  were  famous  throughout  the 
whole  city.  Through  dislike  for  cigarettes  and  cigars,  he 
had  in  his  day  made  a  great  collection  in  his  mansion  for 
lovers  of  the  pipe.  Kopovski's  anxiety  about  tlie  pipes 
was  not  quieted,  however,  —  first,  because  at  that  moment 
they  brought  Pan  Ignas  a  letter  from  Pan  Stanislav,  con- 
taining also  intelligence  of  the  old  man's  decease,  and  an 
invitation  to  the  funeral;  secondly ,  because  Osnovski  began 
to  advise  with  his  wife  about  the  trip  to  Yasmen. 

It  ended  in  this,  —  that  all  were  to  go  at  once  to  the 
city,  where  the  ladies  would  set  about  buying  various  small 
articles  of  mourning,  and  on  the  second  day,  the  day  of  the 
funeral,  they  would  be  in  Yasmen.  Thus  did  they  do. 
Pan  Ignas,  immediately  after  their  arrival,  went  to  his 
lodgings  to  carry  home  things,  and  prepare  a  black  suit  for 
mourning;  and  then  he  went  to  the  Polany etskis ,  suppos- 
ing that  they,  too,  perhaps,  had  come  in  from  the  Bigiels. 
The  servant  informed  him  that  his  master  had  been  there 
the  day  before,  but  had  gone  at  once  to  Yasmen,  near 
which  place  he  had  hired,  or  even  bought,  a  house  two 
weeks  earlier. 

Hearing  this,  he  returned  to  Osnovski's  villa  to  spend 
the  evening  with  his  betrothed. 

At  the  entrance,  the  tones  of  a  waltz  by  Strauss,  coming 
from  the  depth  of  the  house,  astonished  him.  Meeting  in 
the  next  salon  Panna  Ratkovski,  he  inquired  who  was 
playing. 

"  Lineta  is  playing  with  Pan  Kopovski,"  answered  she. 

"  Then  Pan  Kopovski  is  here  ?  " 

"  He  came  a  quarter  of  an  hour  since." 

"  And  Pani  and  Pan  Osnovski  ?  " 

They  have  not  returned  yet;  Aneta  is  making  pur- 
chases." 

Pan  Ignas,  for  the  first  time  in  his  life,  felt  a  certain  dis- 
satisfaction with  Lineta.  He  understood  that  the  deceased 
was  nothing  to  her ;  still  the  moment  for  playing  a  four- 
handed  waltz  with  Kopovski  seemed  inappropriate.    He  had 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  529 

a  feeling  that  that  showed  want  of  taste.  Pani  Bronich, 
who  did  not  lack  society  keenness,  divined  evidently  that 
impression  on  his  face. 

"  Nitechka  was  moved  greatly,  and  worn  out,''  said  she ; 
"  and  nothing  calms  her  like  music.  I  was  much  alarmed,' 
for  sinking  of  the  heart  had  begun  with  her;  and  when  Pan 
Kopovski  came,  I  myself  proposed  that  they  play  something." 

They  stopped  playing ;  and  Pan  Ignas's  unpleasant  im- 
pression  disappeared  by  degrees.  There  was  for  him  in 
that  villa  a  multitude  of  recent  and  precious  remembrances. 
About  dusk  he  took  Lineta's  arm,  and  they  walked  through 
the  rooms.  They  stopped  in  various  places ;  he  called  to 
mind  something  every  moment. 

"Dost  remember,"  asked  he,  in  the  studio,  "when  paint- 
ing, thou  didst  take  me  by  the  temple  to  turn  my  head 
aside,  and  for  the  first  time  in  life  I  kissed  thy  hand ;  and 
thy  words,  '  Talk  with  aunt '  ?  —  I  lost  not  only  con- 
sciousness, but  breath.     Thou,  ray  chosen,  my  dearest ! " 

And  she  answered,  — 

"  And  how  pale  thou  wert  then  ! " 

"It  is  difficult  not  to  be  pale  when  the  heart  is  dying  in 
one  from  emotion ;  and  I  loved  thee  beyond  memory." 

Lineta  raised  her  eyes,  and  said  after  a  while,  — 

"  How  wonderful  all  this  is  !  " 

"  What,  Nitechka  ?  " 

"  That  it  begins  somehow,  and  begins  as  if  it  were  a  kind 
of  trial,  a  kind  of  play;  then  one  goes  farther  into  it,  and 
all  at  once  the  trap  falls." 

Pan  Ignas  pressed  her  arm  to  his  bosom,  and  said,  — 

"  Ah,  yes  !  it  has  fallen !  I  have  my  bright  maiden,  and 
I  won't  let  her  go." 

Then,  walking  on,  they  came  to  the  great  drawing-room. 

Pan  Ignas  pointed  to  the  glass  door,  and  said,  — 

"  Our  balcony,  our  acacia-tree." 

It  grew  darker  and  darker.  Objects  in  the  room  were 
sunk  in  shade ;  only  here  and  there,  on  golden  picture 
frames,  gleamed  points  of  light,^  like  eyes  of  some  kind 
gazing  at  the  young  couple. 

"Dost  thou  love  me?"  asked  Pan  Ignas. 

"Thou  knowest."  ^ 

"Say  yes." 

"Yes." 

Then  he  pressed  her  arm  more,  and  said  with  a  voice 
changed  through  rising  emotion,  — 

84 


530  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

"Thou  hast  no  idea,  simply,  how  much  happiness  is  in 
thee.  1  give  thee  my  word ;  thou  hast  no  idea.  Thou 
knowest  not  how  I  love  thee.  I  would  give  my  life  for 
thee.  I  would  give  the  world  for  one  hair  of  thine.  Thou 
art  my  world,  my  life,  my  all.  I  should  die  without 
thee." 

"  Let  us  sit  down,"  whispered  Lineta ;  "  I  am  so  wearied." 

They  sat  down,  resting  against  each  other,  hidden  in  the 
dark.     A  moment  of  silence  followed. 

"  What  is  the  matter  ?  Thou  art  trembling  all  over," 
whispered  Lineta. 

But  she  too,  whether  stirred  by  remembrances,  or  borne 
on  by  his  feeling,  or  by  nearness,  began  to  breathe  hur- 
riedly, and,  closing  her  eyes,  was  the  first  to  put  her  lips 
forward  toward  his. 

Meanwhile  Kopovski  was  bored  evidently  in  the  adjoin- 
ing room  with  Panna  Ratkovski  and  Pani  Bronich,  for  at 
that  moment  the  tones  of  the  waltz  which  he  had  played 
before  with  Lineta  were  heard. 

When  Pan  Ignas  returned  to  his  own  lodgings,  the  place 
seemed  the  picture  of  sadness  and  loneliness,  a  kind  of 
objectless  nomad  dwelling,  after  which  there  will  not  be 
one  memory ;  and  he  thought  that  that  golden  "  Nitechka  " 
had  so  wound  herself  around  his  heart  that  in  truth  he 
would  not  live  without  her,  and  could  not. 

The  funeral,  on  the  third  day,  was  not  numerously 
attended.  The  neighboring  estates,  as  lying  near  the  city, 
belonged  for  the  greater  part  to  rich  people,  who  passed  the 
summer  season  abroad ;  hence  not  many  of  Pan  Zavilovski's 
acquaintances  had  remained  in  the  city.  But  numerous 
throngs  of  villagers  had  assembled,  who,  crowding  into  the 
church,  looked  at  the  coffin  as  if  with  wonder  that  a  man  of 
such  wealth,  wading  in  property,  in  money  and  riches,  was 
going  into  the  ground  like  the  first  chance  peasant  who 
lived  in  a  hut  somewhere.  Others  looked  with  envy  on  the 
young  lady  to  whom  "  so  much  wealth  "  was  to  fall.  And 
such  is  human  nature  that  not  only  peasants,  but  refined 
people,  distant  or  near  acquaintances  of  Pan  Zavilovski, 
were  unable  even  during  the  burial  itself  to  refrain  from 
thinking  what  that  Panna  Helena  would  do  with  those 
millions  which  were  left  her  for  the  drying  of  tears.  There 
were  some  too,  who,  supposing  young  Zavilovski  as  the  last 
relative  of  that  name,  the  heir  of  a  considerable  part  of  the 
property,  gave  themselves  in  secret  the  question  whether 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  631 

that  lucky  poet,  and  millionnaire  of  the  morrow,  perhaps 
would  stop  writing  verses.  And  they  thought,  as  if  with  a 
certain  unexplained  satisfaction,  that  he  would  probably. 

But  the  chief  attention  was  turned  to  Panna  Helena. 
All  wondered  at  the  resignation  with  which  she  bore  the 
loss,  —  the  more  painful,  since  after  the  death  of  her  father 
she  remained  in  the  world  all  alone,  without  relatives 
nearer  than  the  young  poet,  and  even  without  friends,  con- 
cerning whom  she  had  long  since  ceased  to  busy  herself. 
She  walked  after  the  coffin  with  a  face  over  which  tears 
were  flowing,  but  which  was  calm,  with  that  calmness  usual 
to  her,  but  somewhat  lifeless  and  stony.  On  her  return 
from  the  church,  she  spoke  of  the  death  of  her  father  as  if 
a  number  of  months  at  least  had  passed  since  it  happened. 
The  ladies  of  Prytulov  could  not  understand  that  an  im- 
mense faith  was  speaking  through  her ;  and  that  in  virtue 
of  her  faith,  that  death,  in  comparison  with  another,  which 
she  had  survived,  but  which  had  rent  her  soul,  seemed 
something  tiiat  was  sad,  it  is  true,  but  at  the  same  time  a 
blessing,  pressing  out  tears  of  sorrow,  but  not  of  despair. 
In  fact,  old  Pan  Zavilovski  died  very  piousl}',  though  almost 
suddenly.  From  the  time  of  his  arrival  in  Yasmen,  he  had 
the  habit  of  confessing  twice  a  week ;  hence  he  did  not  lack 
religious  consolation.  He  died  with  the  rosary  in  his  hand, 
in  his  armchair,  having  fallen  previously  into  a  light  sleep, 
without  any  suliering;  his  usual  pain  having  left  him  a  few 
days  before,  so  that  he  had  even  begun  to  gain  the  hope  of 
a  perfect  return  of  health.  Panna  Helena,  while  speaking 
of  this,  in  her  low  uniform  voice,  turned  at  last  to  Pan 
Ignas  and  said, — 

"  He  mentioned  you  very  often.  Perhaps  an  hour  before 
death  he  said  that  if  you  should  come  to  Buchynek  to 
Pan  Polanyetski,  to  let  liim  know,  for  he  wished  to  see  you 
without  fail.  Patlier  loved  and  esteemed  you  greatly, 
greatly." 

"Dear  lady,"  said  Pan  Ignas,  raising  her  hands  to  his 
lips,  "I  join  you  in  mourning  for  him  sincerely." 

There  was  something  noble  and  truthful,  as  well  in  his 
tones  as  in  liis  words,  therefore  Panna  Helena's  eyes  filled 
with  tears;  but  the  weeping  of  Pani  Bronich  was  so  loud 
that,  had  it  not  been  for  a  flask  of  salts  given  her  by 
Lineta,  it  would  have  passed  into  a  nervous  attack,  very 
likely. 

But  Panna  Helena,  as  if  not  hearing  those  sobs,  thanked 


532  CHILDREN  OF  THE   SOIL. 

Pan  Stanislav  for  the  aid  which  she  had  received  from 
him,  — he  had  occupied  himself  with  those  cares  which  the 
death  of  a  near  friend  imposes,  in  addition  to  their  mis- 
fortune, on  those  who  are  bereaved.  He  took  all  that  on 
himself  because  of  his  active  nature,  and  because  at  that 
juncture  he  seized  every  chance  to  occupy  himself  with 
something  to  deaden  his  thoughts,  and  escape  from  the 
torturing  circle  of  his  own  meditations. 

Marynia  did  not  go  to  the  grave,  for  her  husband  did 
not  wish  her  exposed  to  crowding  and  fatigue,  but  she 
kept  company  with  Panna  Helena  in  the  house,  giving  her 
consolation,  as  she  could.  Afterward  she  wished  to  take 
her,  with  the  Prytulov  ladies,  to  Buchynek,  and  even  to 
keep  her  there  a  few  days.  Pan  Stanislav  supported  this 
request;  but  as  Panna  Helena  had  her  old  governess  at  the 
mansion,  she  refused,  assuring  Marynia  that  in  Yasmen 
it  would  not  be  disagreeable  at  all  to  her,  and  that  she  did 
not  wish  to  leave  it  for  the  first  days  especially. 

But  the  ladies  from  Prytulov,  who,  at  the  persuasion 
of  Svirski,  had  intended  to  visit  the  Polanyetskis ,  went 
willingly  with  their  acquaintances  to  Buchynek,  —  all  the 
more  since  Pani  Bronich  desired  to  learn  from  Pan  Stan- 
islav nearer  details  touching  the  last  moments  of  the 
deceased.  Marynia,  who  had  looked  most  curiously  at 
Panna  Ratkovski,  took  her  in  her  carriage,  and  that  hap- 
pened which  happens  sometimes  in  society,  —  that  the  two 
youthful  women  felt  at  once  an  irrestrainable  attraction  to 
each  other.  In  Panna  Ratkovski's  pensive  eyes,  in  her 
expression,  in  her  "retiring"  face,  as  Svirski  called  it, 
there  was  something  of  such  character  that  Marynia 
divined,  at  the  first  glance  almost,  a  nature  not  bold, 
accustomed  to  retire  into  itself,  delicate  and  sensitive. 
On  the  other  hand,  Panna  Ratkovski  had  heard  so  much  of 
Marynia  from  Pan  Ignas ,  and  heard  because  other  ladies 
in  Prytulov  were  not  willing  to  lend  their  ears  to  praises 
of  their  neighbors,  that,  seeing  in  her  eyes  interest  and 
sympathy,  to  which,  in  her  poverty  and  loneliness,  she 
was  not  accustomed,  she  nestled  up  with  her  whole  heart 
to  her.  In  this  way  they  arrived  at  Buchynek  as  good 
friends,  and  Svirski,  who  was  with  Pan  Stanislav,  Osnovski, 
and  Kopovski,  arrived  right  after  them;  it  did  not  need 
any  great  acuteness  to  divine  that  the  judgment  of  Marynia 
would  be  for  Panna  Steftsia. 

But  he  wished  to  hear  it.     Marynia  began  to  show  the 


CHILDREN  OP  THE  SOIL.  533 

guests  her  new  residence,  which  was  to  be  her  property, 
for  Pan  Stanislav  had  decided  already  to  buy  it.  They 
looked  specially  at  the  garden,  in  which  were  growing 
uncommonly  old  white  poplars.  Svirski,  taking  advantage 
of  this  walk,  gave  his  arm  to  Marynia;  and  on  the  way 
back  to  the  house,  when  the  party  had  scattered  somewhat 
along  all  the  paths,  he  asked  with  great  precipitance, — 

"Well,  what  is  the  first  impression?" 

"The  best  possible.  Ah,  what  a  good  and  sensitive 
child  that  must  be!     Try  to  know  her." 

"I?  What  for?  I  will  propose  this  day.  You  think  I 
will  not  do  that?  Upon  my  word,  I  will,  to-day  —  and  in 
Buchynek!  I  have  no  time  for  examination  and  medita- 
tion. In  those  affairs  there  must  be  a  little  daring.  I  will 
make  a  declaration  this  day,  as  true  as  I  am  here  before 
you." 

Marynia  began  to  laugh,  thinking  that  he  was  jesting; 
but  he  answered,  — 

"I  am  laughing,  too,  for  there  is  nothing  sad  in  this; 
it  is  no  harm  that  this  is  a  funeral  day.  I  am  not  super- 
stitious; or  rather,  I  am,  for  I  believe  that  nothing  from 
your  hand  can  be  evil." 

"  But  it  is  not  from  my  hand ;  I  only  made  her  acquaint- 
ance to-day." 

"It  is  all  one  to  me.  I  have  been  afraid  of  women  all 
my  life;  but  of  this  one,  somehow,  I  have  no  fear.  She 
simply  cannot  be  a  thankless  heart." 

"I  think,  too,  that  she  cannot." 

"And  do  you  see?  this  is  my  last  chance.  If  she 
accepts  me, I  will  carry  her  all  my  life,  see? "  (here  he  put 
his  hand  in  the  bosom  of  his  coat);  "if  not,  then  —  " 

"Then  what?" 

"I'll  shut  myself  in,  and  for  a  whole  week  will  paint 
from  morning  till  night.  I  have  said  that  I  would  go  to 
shoot  ducks  — but  no!  This  is  more  important  than  you 
think.  I  judge,  however,  that  she  ought  to  accept  me.  I 
know  that  she  does  not  like  that  ladies'  butterfly,  that 
Kopovski;  she  is  alone  in  the  world,  an  orphan;  she  will 
do  me  a  kindness,  for  which  I  shall  be  grateful  all  my 
days,  because,  really,  I  am  a  kind  man  — but  I  fear  to 
grow  embittered."  «  •    i  •      -1,4. 

Marynia  saw  now,  for  the  first  time,  that  Svirski  might 
speak  seriously;  and  she  answered, — 

"You  are,  in  truth,  a  kind  man;  hence  you  will  never 
be  embittered." 


534  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

"On  tlie  contrary,"  answered  he,  with  great  animation, 
"it  might  end  in  that;  I  will  be  outspoken  with  you.  Do 
you  think  that  I  am  as  happy  as  I  seem?  God  knows  that 
I  am  not.  I  have  gained  a  little  money  and  fame;  that  is 
true.  But  perhaps  there  has  not  been  among  men  another 
who  has  so  stretched  forth  his  hands  to  a  womanly  ideal 
as  I  have.  What  is  the  result?  I  have  met  you,  Pani 
Bigiel,  maybe  two  or  three  others,  worthy,  true,  sensible, 
pure  as  tears.  Permit  me !  I  do  not  wish  to  say  pleasant 
things  to  you;  but  in  what  I  say  now  I  do  not  wish  to 
announce  a  criticism,  but  to  discover  my  suffering.  I  have 
seen  among  our  women  so  much  tinsel,  so  many  common, 
frivolous  natures,  so  much  egotism,  so  much  shallowness, 
so  many  thankless  hearts,  so  many  dolls  from  a  picture, 
so  many  false  aspirations,  that  from  sight  of  them  ten 
such  men  as  I  am  might  be  embittered."  After  a  while  he 
added:  "This  child  seems  different;  quiet,  mild,  and  very 
honest.  God  grant  that  it  come  to  pass;  God  grant  her 
to  want  me !  " 

At  the  same  time  Pani  Bronich,  taking  Pan  Stanislav 
aside  openly,  spoke  with  uplifted  eyes, — 

"Oh,  yes!  he  reminded  me  of  my  years  of  youth;  and, 
as  you  see,  in  spite  of  this  —  that  for  a  long  time  relations 
between  us  were  broken  —  I  preserved  friendship  for  him 
to  the  end  of  his  life.  You  must  have  heard!  but  no! 
you  could  not  have  heard,  for  I  have  never  mentioned  this 
to  any  one,  that  it  depended  on  me  alone  —  to  be  the 
mother  of  Helena.  Now  there  is  no  longer  any  need  to 
keep  the  secret.  Twice  he  proposed  to  me,  and  twice  I 
refused  him.  I  respected  and  loved  him  always ;  but  you 
will  understand  that  when  one  is  young,  something  else  is 
sought  for,  —  that  is  sought  for  which  I  found  in  my 
Teodor.  Oh,  that  is  true!  Once  he  proposed  in  Ischia, 
a  second  time  in  Warsaw.  He  suffered  much;  but  what 
could  I  do?  Would  you  have  acted  otherwise  if  in  my 
place?     Tell  me  sincerely." 

Pan  Stanislav,  not  having  the  least  desire  to  say,  either 
sincerely  or  insincerely,  how  he  would  have  acted  in  the 
position  of  Pani  Bronich,  replied, — 

"Did  you  wish  to  ask  me  about  something?" 

"Yes,  oh,  yes!  I  wanted  to  ask  you  about  his  last 
moments.  Helena  said  that  he  died  suddenly;  but  you, 
who  lived  so  near  him,  must  have  visited  him,  therefore 
you  will  remember  what  he  said.     Maybe  you  know  what 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  630 

his  last  intentions  and  thoughts  were?  Personally  I  have 
not  the  least  interest  in  the  matter.  My  God!  would  it 
not  be  difficult  to  act  more  disinterestedly?  You  do  not 
know  Xitechka?  But  Pan  Zavilovski  gave  me  his  word 
that  he  would  leave  Pan  Ignas  his  estates  in  Poznau.  If 
he  did  not  keep  his  word,  or  if  he  did  not  try  to  keep  it, 
may  the  Lord  God  forgive  him, as  I  forgive  him!  Wealth, 
of  course,  amounts  to  nothiug.  Who  has  given  a  better 
example  than  Nitechka  of  disregard  for  wealth?  Were  it 
the  opposite,  she  would  not  have  refused  such  matches  as 
the  Marquis  Jao  Colimaqao,  or  Pan  Kanafaropulos.  You 
must  have  heard  also  of  Pan  Ufinski, — that  same  who, 
with  his  famous  silhouettes,  bought  for  himself  a  palace  in 
Venice.  His  last  work  was  to  cut  out  the  Prince  of  Wales. 
This  very  year  he  proposed  to  me  for  iS'itechka.  Oh,  true! 
if  any  one  has  sought  wealth,  it  is  not  we.  But  I  should 
not  wish  Xitechka  to  think  that  she  had  made  a  sacrifice, 
for  still,  between  us,  she  is  making  a  sacrifice,  and  if  con- 
sidered in  society  fashion,  a  great  sacrifice." 

Pan  Stanislav  was  an  energetic  man;  angered  by  the  last 
words  of  Pani  Bronich,  he  answered, — 

"I  have  not  known  either  the  Marquis  Jao  ColiraaQao 
or  Pan  Kanafaropulos,  but  in  this  country  they  are 
rather  fantastic  names.  I  will  suppose  that  Panna  Castelli 
marries  Pan  Zavilovski  out  of  love;  in  that  case,  every 
sacrifice  is  excluded.  I  am  an  outspoken  man,  and  I  say 
what  I  think.  Whether  Pan  Ignas  is  a  practical  man  is 
another  question;  but  Pan  Ignas  does  not  know,  and -he 
does  not  want  to  ask,  what  Panna  Castelli  brings  him.  The 
ladies  know  perfectly  what  he  brings,  even  from  a  society 
point  of  view." 

"Oh,  but  you  have  not  heard  that  the  Castellis  are 
descended  from  Marino  Falieri." 

"  That  is  precisely  what  neither  I  nor  any  one*else  has 
heard.  Let  us  suppose  that  for  me  and  you  such  views 
have  no  meaning;  but  since  you  says  first,  that,  taking 
things  from  a  society  point  of  view,  Panna  Castelli  is 
making  a  great  sacrifice,  I -do  not  hesitate  to  deny  that, 
and  to  say  that,  omitting  Pan  Ignas's  talents  and  social 
position,  the  match  is  equal." 

From  his  tone  and  face  it  was  evident  that  if  Pani 
Bronich  would  not  stop  at  what  he  said,  he  was  ready  to 
speak  more  openly;  but  Pani  Bronich,  having  evidently 
more  than  one  arrow  in  her  quiver,  seized  Pan  Stanislav  s 
hand,  and,  shaking  it  vigorously,  exclaimed.— 


536  CHILDREN  OF  THE   SOIL. 

"Oh,  how  honest  you  are,  to  take  the  part  of  Ignas  so 
earnestly,  and  how  I  love  him,  as  my  own  son!  Whom 
have  I  in  the  world  if  not  those  two?  And  if  I  inquire 
whether  you  know  of  any  arrangement  made  by  Pan 
Zavilovski ,  I  do  so  only  through  love  for  Pan  Ignas.  I  know 
that  old  people  like  to  put  oft"  and  put  off,  just  as  if  death 
let  itself  be  delayed  by  that.  Oh,  death  will  not  be 
delayed!  no,  no!  Helena  has  no  use  for  all  those  millions; 
but  Ignas  —  he  might  then  spread  his  wings  really.  For 
me  and  Nitechka  the  question  beyond  all  questions  is  his 
talent.     But  if  anything  should  come  to  pass  —  " 

"  What  can  I  tell  you?  "  said  Pan  Stanislav.  "  That  Pan 
Zavilovski  was  thinking  of  Ignas  is  for  me  undoubted,  and 
I  tell  you  why.  About  ten  days  since,  he  gave  command 
to  bring  some  old  arms  to  show  them  to  me;  thereupon  he 
turned  to  his  daughter,  and  I  heard  him  say  to  her,  '  These 
are  not  worth  enumerating  in  the  will ;  but  after  my  death 
give  them  to  Ignas,  for  you  have  no  use  for  them.'  From 
this  I  infer  that  either  he  made  some  will  in  favor  of 
Ignas,  or  thought  of  it.  Further  I  know  nothing,  for  I 
made  no  inquiry  of  him.  Should  there  be  any  new  will, 
it  will  be  known  in  a  couple  of  days,  and  Panna  Helena 
of  a  certainty  will  not  hide  it." 

"Do  you  know  that  honest  Helena  well?  But  no,  no\ 
You  do  not  know  her  as  I  know  her,  and  I  can  be  a  surety 
for  her.  Never  suspect  her  in  my  presence !  Helena  hide 
a  will?     Never,  sir!" 

"Let  the  lady  be  so  kind  as  not  to  ascribe  to  me  a 
thought  which  I  have  not,  and  from  which  I  guard  myself. 
The  will  can  in  no  case  be  concealed,  for  it  is  made  before 
witnesses." 

"  And  do  you  see  that  it  is  not  even  possible  to  conceal 
it,  for  it  is  drawn  up  before  witnesses?  I  was  sure  that  it 
could  not  be  concealed ;  but  Pan  Zavilovski  loved  Nitechka 
so  much  that  even  out  of  regard  for  her,  he  could  not  for- 
get Ignas.  He  carried  her  in  his  arms  when  she  was  so 
big,  see."  Here  Pani  Bronich  put  one  hand  above  the 
other,  so  as  to  give  Pan  Stanislav  in  that  manner  an  idea 
of  how  big  Lineta  might  have  been  at  the  time;  but  after  a 
while  she  added,  "And  maybe  she  wasn't  even  that  big." 

Then  tLey  returned  to  the  rest  of  the  company,  who, 
having  finished  a  survey  of  the  garden,  were  assembling 
for  dinner.  Pan  Stanislav,  looking  at  the  charming  face 
of  Lineta,  thought  that  when  Pan  Zavilovski  carried  her 


CHILDKEN  OF  THE  SOIL.  537 

in  his  arms,  she  might,  in  fact,  have  been  a  nice  and  pretty 
child.  Suddenly  he  remembered  Litka,  whom  he  carried 
m  his  arms  also,  and  inquired, — 

"Then  are  you  an  old  acquaintance  of  the  deceased?" 

"  Oh  —  so ,"  answered  Lineta.  "  About  four  years.  Aunt, 
how  long  IS  it  since  we  became  acquainted  with  Pan 
Zavilovski?" 

"Of  what  is  that  dear  head  thinking?"  exclaimed  Pani 
Bronich.  "Ah,  my  dear,  what  a  happy  age!  and  what  a 
happy  period ! " 

During  this  time  Svirski,  who  was  sitting  near  Panna' 
Katkovski,  felt  that  it  would  not  be  so  easy  for  him  to 
carry  out  the  promise  given  Marynia  as  it  had  seemed  to 
him.  Witnesses  hindered  him,  and,  still  more,  a  certain 
alarm  about  the  heart,  joined  to  a  loss  of  usual  presence  of 
mind  and  freedom.  "To  think,"  said  he  to  himself,  "that 
I  am  a  greater  coward  than  I  supposed."  And  he  did  not 
succeed.  He  wanted  at  least  to  prepare  the  ground,  and 
he  talked  of  something  different  from  what  he  wished ;  he 
noticed  now  that  Panua  Ratkovski  had  a  beautiful  neck,  and 
pearl  tones  about  her  ears,  and  a  very  charming  voice  — 
but  he  noticed  with  astonishment  that  this  made  him  still 
more  timid.  After  lunch  the  whole  company  sat  togethet 
as  if  tlirough  perversity.  The  ladies  were  wearied  by  the 
funeral;  and  when,  an  hour  later,  Pani  Aneta  announced 
that  it  was  time  to  return ,  he  felt  at  once  a  sensation  of 
disappointment  and  relief. 

"It  is  not  my  fault,"  thought  he;  "I  had  a  fixed 
purpose." 

But  when  the  ladies  were  taking  their  places,  the  feeling 
of  solace  changed  into  sorrow  for  himself.  He  thought  of 
his  loneliness,  and  of  this,  that  he  had  no  one  on  whom  to 
bestow  his  reputation  or  his  property ;  he  thought  of  his 
sympathy  for  Panna  Ratkovski,  of  the  confidence  which  she 
had  roused  in  him,  of  the  sincere  feeling  which  he  had  con- 
ceived for  her  at  the  first  glance,  —  and  at  the  last  moment 
he  took  courage. 

Giving  his  arm  to  the  young  lady  to  conduct  her  to  the 
carriage,  he  said,  — 

"Pan  Osnovski  has  asked  me  to  come  again  to  Prytulov, 
and  I  will  come,  but  with  a  brush  and  palette ;  I  should 
like  to  have  your  head." 

And  he  stopped,  trying  how  to  pass  from  that  which  he  had 
said  to  that  which  he  wished  to  say,  and  feeling  at  the  same 


538  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

time  that  he  needed  to  hurry  immensely,  for  there  was  no 
time.  But  Panna  Ratkovski,  evidently  unaccustomed  to 
this,  that  any  man  should  occupy  himself  with  her,  inquired 
with  unfeigned  astonishment,  — 

"Mine?" 

"  Permit  me  to  be  your  echo,"  replied  Svirski,  hurriedly, 
and  in  a  somewhat  stifled  voice,  "  and  to  repeat  that  word." 

Panua  Ratkovski  looked  at  him  as  if  not  understanding 
what  the  question  was ;  but  at  that  moment  Pani  Aneta 
called  her  to  the  carriage,  so  Svirski  had  barely  time  to 
press  her  hand  and  say,  — 

"  Till  we  meet  again." 

The  carriage  moved  on.  Her  open  parasol  hid  the  face 
of  Panna  Ratkovski  quickly ;  the  artist  followed  with  his 
eyes  the  departing  ladies,  and  at  last  gave  himself  the 
question,  — 

**  Have  I  made  a  declaration,  or  not  ?  " 

He  was  certain,  however,  that  Panna  Ratkovski  would 
think,  during  the  whole  drive,  of  what  he  had  told  her.  He 
thought,  also,  that  he  had  answered  adroitly,  and  that  he 
had  made  good  use  of  her  question.  In  this  regard  he  was 
satisfied ;  but  at  the  same  time  he  was  astonished  that  he 
felt  neither  great  joy  nor  fear,  and  that  he  had  a  certain 
dull  feeling  that  something  was  lacking  in  the  whole  matter. 
It  seemed  to  him  that,  in  a  moment  so  important,  he  was 
too  little  moved.  And  he  returned  from  the  gate  to  the 
house  in  thoughtfulness. 

Marynia,  who  had  seen  the  parting  from  a  distance,  had 
red  ears  from  curiosity.  Though  her  husband  was  not  in  the 
room  at  that  moment,  she  dared  not  ask  first;  but  Svirski 
read  so  clearly  in  her  eyes  the  question,  "  Have  you  pro- 
posed ?  "  .that  he  laughed,  and  answered  just  as  if  she  had 
inquired,  — 

"  Yes,  almost.  Not  completely  ;  there  was  no  chance  for 
further  conversation,  so  I  could  not  receive  an  answer.  I 
do  not  know  even  whether  I  was  understood." 

Marynia,  not  seeing  in  him  that  animation  with  which  he 
had  spoken  to  her  before,  and,  ascribing  this  to  alarm, 
wished  to  give  him  consolation,  but  the  entrance  of  Pan 
Stanislav  prevented  her.  Svirski  too  began  to  take  fare- 
well at  once  ;  but  wishing  evidently  to  satisfy  her  curiosity 
before  he  went  away,  he  said,  not  regarding  the  presence  of 
Pan  Stanislav,  — 

"  In  every  case  I  shall  be  in  Prytulov  to-morrow,  or  I  shall 
■write  a  letter;  I  hope  that  the  answer  will  be  favorable." 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  539 

Then  he  kissed  her  hands  with  great  friendship,  and 
after  a  while,  found  hiuiself  alone  in  his  droshky,  in  clouds 
of  yellow  dust,  and  in  his  own  thoughts. 

As  an  artist  he  was  so  accustomed  to  seizing  in  artist 
fashion  various  details  which  intruded  themselves  on  his 
eyes  that  he  did  so  even  now,  but  mechanically,  without 
proper  consciousness,  as  if  only  at  the  surface  of  his  brain. 
But  in  the  depth  of  it  he  was  meditating  on  everything 
that  had  happened. 

"What  the  devil,  Svirski!"  said  he  to  himself ;  "what 
is  happening  to  thee?  Hast  thou  not  passed  twenty-five 
years  so  as  to  be  able  to  jump  over  this  ditch  ?  Has  not  that 
happened  for  which  thou  wert  eager  this  morning  ?  Where 
is  thy  transport  ?  thy  delight  ?  Why  art  thou  not  shouting, 
At  last  I  Thou  art  about  to  marry !  Dost  understand,  old 
man  ?    At  last :  At  last ! " 

But  that  was  vain  urging.  The  internal  man  remained 
cold.  He  understood  that  what  had  happened  ought  to  be 
happiness;  but  he  did  not  respond  to  it.  Greater  and 
greater  astonishment  was  seizing  him.  He  had  acted,  it 
seems,  with  all  knowledge  and  will  and  choice.  He  was 
not  a  child,  nor  frivolous,  nor  a  hysterical  person,  who 
knows  not  what  he  wants.  Having  reasoned  out,  finally, 
that  it  would  be  well,  he  had  not  changed  his  opinion. 
Panna  Ratkovski,  too,  was  evjer  that  same  retiring,  "  very 
reliable  person ; "  why  did  the  thought  that  she  would  be 
the  "little  woman,"  desired  from  of  old,  not  warm  him 
more  vigorously  ?  Why  did  hope,  changed  now  almost  into 
certainty,  not  turn  into  joy  ?  And  at  the  bottom  of  his  soul 
there  remained  a  certain  feeling  of  disappointment. 

"  What  I  told  her,"  thought  he,  "  might  be  adroit,  but  it 
was  dry.  Let  a  thunderbolt  strike  me,  if  it  was  not,  and, 
besides,  it  was  unfinished.  Simply  I  have  no  certainty  yet, 
and  I  do  not  feel  the  thing  as  finished." 

Here  the  impressions  of  an  artist  interrupted  the  thread 
of  his  thought.  Sheep  scattered  on  a  sloping  field  visible 
from  the  road  shaded  by  distance,  and  also  bathed  in  the 
sunlight,  seemed  on  the  green  background  bright  spots, 
with  a  strong  tint  of  blue  fringed  with  gold.  ^        ^ 

"  Those  sheep  are  sky  blue,  —  impressionists  are  right  in 
a  small  degree,"  muttered  Svirski;  "but  may  the  devil 
take  them  !     I  am  going  to  marry  !  " 

And  he  returned  to  his  meditations.  Yes  !  The  result 
did  not  answer  to  his  hope  and  expectation.     There  are 


540  CHILDREN  OF  THE   SOIL 

various  thoughts  which  a  man  does  not  wish  to  confess  to 
himself ;  there  are  feelings  also  which  he  does  not  wish  to 
turn  into  definite  thoughts.  So  it  was  with  Svirski.  He 
did  not  love  Panna  Ratkovski,  and  here  was  the  direct 
answer  to  all  the  questions  which  he  put  to  himself. 
But  he  dodged  this  answer  as  long  as  he  could.  He  did 
not  like  to  confess  that  he  took  that  girl  only  because  he 
had  a  great  wish  to  marry.  He  wanted  to  explain  to  him- 
self that  he  did  not  feel  the  affair  finished,  which  was 
an  evasion.  He  was  not  in  love  !  Others  reached  love 
through  a  woman ;  but  he  wanted  to  fit  a  woman  to  his 
general  internal  demand  for  loving,  —  that  is,  he  went 
by  a  road  the  reverse  of  the  usual  one.  Others,  having  a 
divinity,  built  for  it  a  church ;  he,  having  a  church  ready, 
was  bringing  into  it  a  divinity,  not  because  he  had  wor- 
shipped the  divinity  with  all  his  power  previously,  but  be- 
cause it  seemed  to  him  not  badly  fitted  for  the  architecture 
of  the  temple.  And  now  he  understood  why  he  had  shown 
so  much  ardor  and  resolution  in  the  morning,  but  was  so 
cold  at  that  moment.  By  this  was  explained  too  the  im- 
mense impetus  in  carrying  out  his  plan,  and  the  want  of 
spiritual  "  halleluia,"  after  it  had  been  carried  out. 

Svirski's  astonishment  began  to  pass  into  sadness.  He 
thought  that  he  would  have  done  better,  perhaps,  if,  instead 
of  thinking  so  much  about  a  woman,  instead  of  forming 
theories  of  what  a  woman  ought  to  be,  he  had  caught  up 
the  first  girl  who  pleased  his  heart  and  senses.  He  under- 
stood now  that  a  man  loves  the  woman  whom  he  does  love, 
and  that  he  does  not  fit  to  her  any  preconceived  ideas,  for 
ideas  of  love — like  children — can  be  born  only  of  a 
woman.  All  this  was  the  more  felt  by  him  since  he  was 
conscious  that  he  could  love  immensely ;  and  he  saw  moi-e 
and  more  positively  that  he  was  not  loving  as  he  might 
love.  He  remembered  what  in  his  time  Pan  Stanislav  had 
told  him  in  Rome  of  a  certain  young  doctor,  who,  trampled 
by  a  thoughtless  puppet,  said :  "  I  know  what  she  is ; 
but  I  cannot  tear  my  soul  from  her."  There  was  love 
strong  as  death ;  that  man  loved  !  It  is  unknown  why 
Panna  Castelli  and  Pan  Ignas  came  at  once  to  Svirski's 
mind  ;  he  remembered  also  Pan  Ignas's  face  as  he  had  seen 
it  in  Prytulov,  lost  in  contemplation  and,  as  it  were,  rapt 
into  Heaven. 

And  again  was  roused  in  him  the  artist,  who  by  whole 
years  of  custom  takes  the  place  of  the  man,  even  when  the 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  641 

man  is  thiuking  of  things  the  most  personal.  For  a  while 
he  forgot  himself  and  Panna  Ratkovski,  and  thought  of 
Pan  Ignas's  face,  and  of  that  which  formed  specially  its 
most  essential  expression.  Was  it  a  certain  concentrated 
exaltation  ?  Yes  !  but  there  was  something  else  which 
was  still  more  essential. 

And  suddenly  he  trembled. 

"  A  wonderful  thing,"  thought  he ;  "  that  is  a  tragic 
head." 


542  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 


CHAPTER  LV. 

A  FEW  days  later  Pan  Ignas  was  summoned  by  Pan  Stan- 
islav,  and  went  to  the  city.  The  young  man  had  a  great 
desire  to  remain  in  Prytulov ;  but  Panna  Helena  wished 
absolutely  that  he  should  be  present  at  the  opening  of  her 
father's  will.  He  went,  therefore,  with  Pan  Stanislav  and 
the  grand-nephew  of  old  Pan  Zavilovski,  —  the  advocate 
Kononovich,  —  for  that  purpose  to  Yasmen.  But  when  Pan 
Ignas,  during  the  two  following  days,  in  his  letters  to 
"  Jf itechka,"  poured  forth  on  paper  only  his  feelings,  and 
made  not  the  least  reference  to  the  will,  Pani  Brouich,  whom 
such  effusions  had  deligJited  up  to  that  time,  confessed  now, 
as  a  secret,  to  Pani  Aneta,  that  that  was  a  stupid  way  of 
writing  to  a  betrothed,  and  that  there  wa-s.qiielque  chose  de 
louche  in  a  silence  which  was  as  if  designed.  The  first  of 
those  letters  was  sent,  it  is  true,  from  the  city,  the  second 
immediately  after  his  arrival  in  Yasmen ;  the  old  lady  in- 
sisted, however,  that  in  every  case  Pan  Ignas  should  have 
mentioned  his  hopes,  at  least,  for  by  silence  he  showed 
"Nitechka"  a  lack  of  confidence,  and  simply  offended  her. 

Osnovski  insisted,  on  the  contrary,  that  Pan  Ignas  was 
silent  concerning  his  hopes  through  delicacy  toward  Lineta ; 
and  on  this  subject  it  came  to  a  little  dispute  between 
him  and  Pani  Bronich,  Avho  on  that  occasion  uttered  a 
psychic  principle,  that  men  in  general  have  too  weak  a  con- 
ception of  two  things:  logic  and  delicacy.  "Oh,  that  is 
true !  As  to  logic,  it  is  not  your  fault,  perhaps ;  but  you  are 
that  way,  my  Yozio,  all  of  you."  Xot  being  able,  however, 
to  stay  two  days  in  one  place,  she  went  to  the  city  on  some 
plausible  pretext,  so  as  to  find  an  informant  in  the  question 
of  the  will. 

Returning  on  the  following  day,  she  brought  with  her, 
first,  Pani  Mashko,  whom  she  met  at  the  Prytulov  station, 
and  who  had  been  wishing  for  a  long  time  to  visit  "  that 
dear  Anetka,"  and  second,  information  that  no  new  will  of 
Pan  Zavilovski  had  been  found,  and  that  the  only  and  sole 
heiress  of  his  immense  property  was  Panna  Helena.  This 
news  had  been  received  in  Prytulov  already,  by  the  third 
letter  from  Pan  Ignas,  which  Lineta  had  received  mean' 


CHILDREN  OP  THE  SOIL.  643 

while ;  still  its  confirmation  by  Pani  Bronicli  produced  an 
uncommon  impression,  so  that  the  arrival  of  Pani  Mashko 
passed  unobserved,  as  it  were.  This  was  all  very  strange. 
Those  ladies  had  made  the  acquaintance  of  Pan  Ignas  as  a 
man  without  property.  Lineta  became  his  betrothed  when 
there  were  no  hopes  of  a  will.  The  affair  had  been  arranged 
first  under  the  influence  of  Pani  Aneta,  who  was  "  firing  the 
boilers,  since  there  was  need  to  move,  and  move  quickly ; " 
it  took  place  under  the  influence  of  the  general  enthusiasm 
roused  by  Pan  Ignas's  poetry,  under  the  influence  of  his 
fame ;  through  the  vanity  of  Pani  Bronich  and  Lineta, 
which  vanity  felt  not  only  satisfied,  but  borne  away  by  this 
fact,  that  that  famous  and  celebrated  Zavilovski,  who  had 
turned  all  eyes  to  himself,  was  kneeling  at  the  feet  of  no 
one  else,  but  just  "Nitechka."  It  took  place,  finally,  for 
the  sake  of  public  opinion,  which  could  not  but  glorify  a 
young  lady  who  had  no  thought  for  property,  but  only  for 
that  mental  wealth  which  Pan  Ignas  possessed.  It  is  true 
that,  having  begun  in  this  way,  everything  went  farther  by 
the  force  too  of  that  elemental  rush,  which,  when  once  it  has 
seized  people,  bears  them  on,  without  their  will,  as  the  cur- 
rents of  rivers  bear  objects  swept  away  by  them.  Be  what 
might,  Lineta  became  the  betrothed  of  a  man  without  prop- 
erty ;  and  had  it  not  been  for  those  hopes  which  rose  after- 
ward, neither  she  nor  Pani  Bronich,  nor  any  one  else,  could 
have  or  would  have  taken  it  ill  of  Pan  Ignas  that  he  had  no 
inherited  fortune.  But  such  is  human  nature,  that  just  be- 
cause those  hopes  had  risen,  and  by  rising  had  made  Pan 
Ignas  an  imposing  match  in  the  full  measure,  no  one  could 
help  feeling  a  certain  disappointment  when  they  were  blown 
apart  now  by  the  wind  of  reality.  Some  were  grieved  sm- 
cerely ;  others,  like  Kopovski  and  like  Pani  Mashko,  who  did 
not  know  herself  why,  felt  a  certain  satisfaction  at  such 
a  turn  of  affairs,  but  even  such  a  true  friend  as  Osnovski 
could  not  resist  some  feeling  of  disappointment. 

Pan  Ignas,  in  his  last  letter  to  Lineta,  wrote  among  other 
things  :  "  I  should  like  to  have  wealth  for  thy  sake ;  but 
what  meaning  has  all  wealth  for  me  if  compared  with  thee! 
I  say  sincerely  that  I  have  ceased  to  think  of  it ;  and  1 
know  that  thou,  whose  feet  walk  not  on  the  earth,  art 
troubled  no  more  than  I  am.  And,  as  truly  as  I  love  thee, 
I  am  not  troubled  at  all.  These  great  assurances  which  1 
make  are  for  me  immensely  sacred ;  hence  thou  must  believe 
me.    Various  wants  and  lacks  threaten  people  m  lite,  but  I 


644  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

tell  thee  this  simply,  I  will  not  give  thee  to  any  one.  Then 
art  my  golden  !  my  one  dear  child,  and  lady." 

Lineta  showed  this  letter  to  Pani  Aneta,  to  Panna  Rat- 
kovski,  and  on  the  arrival  of  her  aunt,  to  her  aunt,  of  course. 
Pan  Iguas  had,  indeed,  not  deceived  himself  as  to  her  in 
this  regard  at  least,  that  if  in  all  Prytulov  there  was  no  talk 
of  anything  but  old  Pan  Zavilovski's  will,  Lineta  would 
be  silent  amid  those  conversations  and  regrets.  It  may  be 
that  her  eyes  assumed  to  a  certain  degree  their  former 
dreamy  expression  ;  maybe  at  the  very  corners  of  her  mouth, 
when  people  spoke  of  Pan  Ignas,  something  like  a  minute 
wrinkle  of  contempt  might  be  gathered ;  maybe,  finally,  she 
talked  very  much  with  "  aunt "  evenings,  when,  after  the 
general  good-night,  they  went  to  their  own  rooms ;  but  like 
a  person  who  "  does  not  walk  on  the  earth,"  never  did  she 
raise  her  voice  in  this  question  before  people. 

"  Koposio,"  once  on  a  time,  when  they  were  left  alone  for 
a  minute,  began  to  talk  with  her  about  it ;  but  she  put  her 
finger  first  to  her  own  lips,  and  then  pointed  from  a  distance 
toward  his  lips,  in  sign  that  she  did  not  wish  such  conver- 
sation. What  is  more,  even  Pani  Bronich  spoke  before  her 
little  and  guardedly  concerning  her  disappointment.  But 
when  "Nitechka"  was  not  in  the  room,  the  old  woman  could 
not  stop  the  flow  to  her  mouth  of  that  bitterness  which  had 
risen  in  her  heart ;  this  flow  carried  her  a  number  of  times 
so  far  that  she  lacked  little  of  quarrelling  with  Osnovski. 

Osnovski,  casting  from  his  soul  that  feeling  of  disappoint- 
ment which  he  had  not  been  able  to  ward  off  at  first,  tried 
now  with  all  his  power  to  decrease  the  significance  of  the 
catastrophe,  and  show  that  Ignas  was  in  general  an  excep- 
tional match,  and  even  in  a  financial  view,  quite  a  good 
one. 

"  I  do  not  think,"  said  he,  "  that  he  would  have  stopped 
writing  had  he  been  old  Zavilovski's  heir;  but  the  mere 
management  of  such  an  immense  property  would  have  taken 
so  much  time  that  his  talent  might  have  suffered.  As  the 
question  is  of  Ignas,  I  remember,  aunt,  what  Henry  VIII. 
said,  when  some  prince  threatened  Holbein :  '  I  can  make 
ten  lords  out  of  ten  peasants,  if  the  fancy  comes  to  me ;  but 
out  of  ten  lords  I  cannot  make  one  Holbein.'  Ignas  is  an 
exceptional  man.  Believe  me,  aunt,  I  have  always  con- 
sidered Lineta  a  charming  and  honest  girl,  and  have  al- 
ways loved  her;  but  she  really  rose  in  my  eyes  only  when 
she  appreciated  Ignas.    To  be  something  in  the  life  of  a 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  545 

man  like  him,  is  what  any  woman  might  envy  her.  Is  it 
not  true,  Anetka?" 

"  Of  course,"  answered  Pani  Osnovski ;  "  it  is  pleasant  for 
a  woman  to  belong  to  a  man  who  is  something." 

Osnovski  seized  liis  wife's  hand,  aud,  kissing  it,  said,  half 
in  jest,  half  in  earnest,  — 

"  And  dost  thou  not  think  that  this  often  torments  me, 
that  such  a  being  as  thou  art  should  belong  to  such  a  zero 
as  Yozio  Osnovski  ?  But  it  is  hard  to  help  it !  The  thing 
has  happened ;  and,  besides,  the  zero  loves  much." 

Then  he  turned  to  Pani  Bronich,  — 

"  Think,  aunt,"  said  he,  "  Ignas  has  a  number  of  thou- 
sands of  rubles  of  his  own ;  aud,  besides,  after  his  father's 
death  he  will  have  what  old  Zavilovski  secured  to  him. 
Poor  he  will  not  be." 

"  Oh,  naturally,"  answered  Pani  Bronich,  shaking  her 
head  contemptuously ;  "  Nitechka,  in  accepting  Zavilovski, 
did  not  look  for  money,  of  course ;  if  she  had  looked  for 
money,  it  would  have  been  enough  for  us  to  raise  a  hand  at 
Pan  Kanafaropulos." 

"  Aunt  !  jNIercy  ! "  exclaimed  Pani  Aneta,  laughing. 

"  But  nothing  has  happened,"  said  Osnovski.  "  It  is  sure 
that  Panna  Helena  will  not  marry,  and  the  property  will 
pass  sometime,  if  not  to  Ignas,  to  his  children,  —  that's  the 
whole  affair." 

Seeing,  however,  that  the  face  of  Pani  Bronich  was  de- 
pressed continually,  he  added  after  a  while,  — 

"  Well,  aunt,  more  agreement  with  the  will  of  God !  more 
calmness.     Ignas  is  not  an  inch  less." 

" Of  course,"  answered  she,  with  a  tinge  of  anger;  "of 
course  all  that  changes  nothing.  Zavilovski  in  his  way  has 
talent;  and  every  one  must  confess  that  in  his  way  he  forms 
a  match  beyond  all  expectations.  Oh,  yes ;  of  this  there 
cannot  be  two  opinions.  Of  course  nothing  is  to  be  said  of 
the  property,  all  the  more  since  people  tell  various  things 
of  the  ways  by  which  old  Pan  Zavilovski  increased  it  so 
greatly.  May  God  be  good  to  him,  and  pardon  him  for 
having  deceived  me,  it  is  unknown  why  !  This  very  day 
Nitechka  and  I  prayed  for  his  soul.  It  was  difficult  to  do 
otherwise.  Of  course  I  should  prefer  that  he  had  not  had 
that  inclination  to  untruth,  for  it  may  be  a  family  trait. 
Nitechka  and  I  would  prefer,  too,  that  Pan  Ignas  had  given 
us  less  frequently  to  understand  that  he  would  be  an  heir 
of  Pan  Zavilovski." 


546  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

"I  beg  pardon  most  earnestly,"  interrupted  Osnovski, 
with  vigor.  "  He  never  gave  that  to  be  understood.  Aunt 
will  permit  —  this  is  too  much.  He  did  not  wish  to  men- 
tion it ;  aunt  asked  him  in  my  presence." 

But  Fani  Bronich  was  in  her  career,  and  nothing  could 
stop  her  ;  so  she  said,  with  growing  irritation,  — 

"  He  did  not  give  Yozio  to  understand  this,  but  he  gave 
me  to  understand  it.  Nitechka  can  testify.  Besides,  I 
said  to  Yozio,  '  Never  mind  this  matter.'  Of  course  nothing 
has  changed ;  and  if  we  have  some  grief,  it  is  at  least  not 
from  this  cause.  Yozio  has  never  been  a  mother ;  and  as  a 
man  he  can  never  understand  how  much  fear  we  mothers 
feel  at  the  last  moment  before  giving  a  child  into  strange 
hands.  I  have  learned  of  late,  just  now,  that  Zavilovski, 
with  all  his  qualities,  has  a  violent  temper;  and  he  has.  I 
have  always  suspected  him  of  something  similar ;  and  that 
being  so,  it  would  be  simply  death  for  Nitechka.  Pan  Po- 
lanyetski  himself  did  not  deny  that  he  has  a  violent  temper. 
Pan  Polauyetski  himself,  though  his  friend,  so  far  as  men 
can  be  friends,  gave  to  understand  that  his  father,  too,  had 
a  violent  temper,  and  because  of  it  fell  into  insanity,  which 
may  be  in  the  family.  I  know  that  Pan  Ignas  seems  to 
love  Nitechka,  in  as  far  as  men  can  love  truly ;  but  will 
that  love  last  long?  That  he  is  selfish,  Yozio  himself  will 
not  deny ;  for  that  matter,  you  are  all  selfish.  Then  let 
Yozio  not  be  astonished  that  in  these  recent  hours  terror 
seizes  me  when  I  think  that  my  darling  may  fall  into  the 
hands  of  a  tyrant,  a  madman,  and  au  egotist." 

"  No,"  cried  Osnovski,  turning  to  his  wife ;  "  as  I  love 
thee,  one's  ears  simply  wither ;  one  may  simply  lose  one's 
head." 

But  Pani  Aneta  seemed  to  amuse  herself  with  that  con- 
versation as  she  would  in  a  theatre.  The  quarrels  of  her 
husband  with  Pani  Bronich  always  amused  her ;  but  now 
she  was  carried  away  more  than  usual,  for  Pani  Bronich, 
looking  at  Osnovski  as  if  with  pity,  continued,  — 

"Besides,  that  sphere!  All  those  Svirskis  and  Polanyet- 
skis  and  Bigiels  !  We  are  blinded  in  Zavilovski,  all  of  us; 
but,  to  tell  the  truth,  is  that  sphere  fit  for  Nitechka  ? 
Hardly.  The  Lord  God  himself  made  a  difference  between 
people ;  and  from  that  comes  a  difference  in  breeding. 
Perhaps  Yozio  does  not  give  himself  a  clear  account  of 
this,  foi",  in  general,  men  are  unable  to  give  account  to 
themselves  of  such  matters ;  but  I  tell  Yozio  that  there  are 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  547 

shades  and  shades,  which  in  life  may  become  enormously 
important.  Has  Yozio  forgotten  who  Nitechka  is,  and 
that  if  anything  pains  such  a  person  as  Nitechka,  if  any- 
thing  wounds  her,  she  may  pay  for  it  with  her  life  ?  Let 
yozio  think  who  those  people  are,  speaking  among  our- 
selves, —  such  people  as  the  Polanyetskis,  and  such  men  as 
Svirski,  and  that  whole  company  with  which  Pan  Ignas 
associates,  and  with  which  he  will  force  Nitechka  to  asso- 
ciate, perhaps  ! " 

"  Well,  let  us  take  things  from  that  point  of  view,"  inter- 
rupted Osnovski.  "  Very  well !  Let  it  be  so.  First  of  all, 
then,  who  was  old  Pan  Zavilovski  ?  That  aunt  knows 
clearly  enough,  even  out  of  regard  to  her  own  relations 
with  him.  If  it  is  a  question,  aunt,  of  the  sphere,  I  have 
the  honor  to  say  that  we  all,  in  relation  to  such  people  as 
the  Polanyetskis,  are  parvenus,  and  are  taking  liberties 
with  them.  I  never  enter  into  genealogies  ;  but  since  aunt 
wants  them,  let  aimt  have  them.  Aunt  must  have  heard 
that  the  Svirskis  are  princes.  That  line  which  settled  in 
Great  Poland  dropped  the  title,  but  has  the  right  to  it ;  that 
is  who  they  are.  As  to  us,  my  grandfather  was  a  manager 
in  the  Ukraine,  and  I  do  not  think  of  denying  that.  Out  of 
what  did  the  Broniches  grow  ?  Aunt  knows  better  than  I 
do.  I  do  not  touch  that  matter;  but,  since  we  are  alone, 
we  can  speak  openly.     Of  the  Castellis,  too,  aunt  knows." 

"The  Castellis  are  descended  from  Marino  Falieri," 
exclaimed  Pani  Hronich,  with  enthusiasm. 

"  Beloved  aunt !  I  remind  thee  that  we  are  alone." 

**  But  it  depended  on  Nitechka  to  become  the  Marchioness 
ColimaQao." 

''La  vie  parisienne ! "  answered  Osnovski.  "Aunt 
knows  that  operetta.     There  is  a  Swiss  admiral  in  it." 

Pani  Aneta  was  amused  to  perfection ;  but  it  became  dis- 
agreeable to  Osnovski  that  he  had  raised  in  his  own  house 
reminiscences  which  were  not  agreeable  to  Pani  Bronich, 
hence  he  added,  — 

"But  why  all  our  talk?  Aunt  knows  how  I  have  al- 
ways loved  Nitechka,  and  how  from  the  core  of  my  heart  1 
wished  lier  to  be  worthy  of  Ignas." 

But  this  was  pouring  oil  on  the  flames,  for  Pani  Bro- 
nich, heaving  tliis  blasphemy,  lost  the  last  of  her  cool  blood, 
and  excLiimeil,  — 

"  Niteclika  worthy  of  Ignas  ?    Such  a  —  " 

Happily  the  entrance  of  Pani  .Mashko  interrupted  further 
conversation.     Aunt  Bronich  was  silent,  as  if  indignation 


548  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

had  stopped  the  words  in  her  mouth ;  Pani  Aneta  began  to 
inquire  of  Pani  Mashko  what  the  rest  of  the  company  were 
doing,  and  where  she  had  left  them. 

"  Pan  Kopovski,  Lineta,  and  Stefania  remained  in  the 
conservatory,"  answered  Pani  Mashko  ;  "  the  two  ladies  are 
painting  orchids,  and  Pan  Kopovski  amused  us." 

"  How  ?  "  asked  Osnovski. 

"  With  conversation ;  we  laughed  heartily.  He  told  us 
that  his  acquaintance,  Pan  Vyj,  who  very  likely  is  a  great 
man  at  heraldry,  told  him  in  all  seriousness  that  there  is  a 
family  in  Poland  with  the  escutcheon,  '  Table  legs.' " 

"If  there  is  one,"  muttered  Osnovski,  humorously,  "it 
is  the  family  of  the  Kopovskis,  beyond  doubt." 

"  And  did  Steftsia  remain,  too,  in  the  conservatory  ?  " 
asked  Pani  Aneta. 

"  Yes  ;  they  are  sketching  together." 

"  Dost  wish  to  go  to  them  ?  " 

"  Let  us  go." 

But  at  that  moment  the  servant  brought  letters,  which 
Pan  Osnovski  looked  over,  and  delivered.  "For  Anetka, 
for  Anetka !  "  said  he  ;  "  this  little  literary  woman  has  an 
enormous  correspondence  always.  For  you,"  added  he, 
turning  to  Pani  Mashko;  "for  aunt;  and  this  is  for  Steft- 
sia, —  somehow  a  known  hand,  quite  familiar.  The  ladies 
will  permit  me  to  carry  her  this  letter." 

"  Of  course ;  go,"  said  Pani  Aneta,  with  animation  ;  "  and 
"we  will  read  ours." 

Osnovski  took  the  letter  and  went  in  the  direction  of  the 
conservatory,  looking  at  it,  and  repeating,  "Whence  do  I 
know  this  hand  ?  —  as  if  —  I  know  that  I  have  seen  this 
hand." 

In  the  conservatory  he  found  three  young  people,  sitting 
under  a  great  arum  at  a  yellow  iron  table,  on  which  the 
orchid  was  standing.  Both  ladies  were  painting  it  in  al- 
bums. Kopovski,  a  little  behind  them,  dressed  in  a  white- 
flannel  costume  and  black  stockings,  was  looking  over  the 
shoulders  of  the  young  ladies  into  the  albums,  smoking 
meanwhile  a  slender  cigarette,  which  he  had  taken  from  an 
elegant  cigarette-case  lying  near  the  flower-pot. 

"  Good-day  !  "  said  Osnovski.  "  What  do  you  think  of 
my  orchids  ?  Splendid,  are  n't  they  ?  What  peculiar  flowers 
they  are  !  Steftsia,  here  is  a  letter ;  ask  the  company  to 
excuse  thee,  and  read  it,  for  it  seems  to  me  that  I  know  the 
handwriting,  but  I  cannot  in  any  way  remember  whose  it 
can  be." 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  649 

Panna  Katkovski  opened  the  letter,  and  began  to  read 
After  a  while  her  face  changed;  a  flame  passed  over  her 
forehead,  then  paleness,  and  again  a  flame.  Osnovski 
looked  at  her  with  curiosity.  When  she  had  finished  read- 
ing, she  showed  him  the  signature,  and  said,  with  a  voice 
which  trembled  somewhat,  — 

"  See  from  whom  the  letter  is." 

"Ah!"  said  Osnovski,  who  understood  everything  at 
once.  * 

"  May  I  ask  thee  for  a  moment's  talk  ?  " 

"  At  once,  my  child,"  answered  he,  as  if  with  a  certain 
tenderness ;  "  I  Avill  serve  thee." 

And  they  went  out  of  the  conservatory. 

"  But  they  have  left  us  alone  for  once  even,"  said  Ko- 
povski,  naively. 

Lineta  did  not  answer;  but,  taking  Kopovski's  white- 
leather  cigarette-case,  which  was  lying  on  the  table,  began 
to  draw  it  across  her  face  gently. 

He  looked  at  that  beautiful  face  with  his  wonderful  eyes, 
beneath  which  she  simply  melted.  Lineta  had  known  for  a 
long  time  what  to  think  of  him ;  his  boundless  stupidity 
had  no  longer  any  secret  from  her.  Still  the  exquisiteness 
and  incomparable  beauty  of  that  dullard  brought  her 
plebeian  blood  into  some  uncommon  movement.  Every  hair 
in  his  beard  had  a  certain  marvellous  and  irresistible  charm 
for  her. 

"  Have  you  noticed  that  for  a  long  time  they  are  watch- 
ing us,  like  I  know  not  whom  ?  "  continued  Kopovski. 

But  she,  feigning  not  to  hear,  continued  to  draw  the 
cigarette-case  across  her  delicate  face,  and,  bringing  it  nearer 
and  nearer  to  her  lips,  said,  — 

"  How  soft  this  is ;  how  pleasant  to  the  touch ! " 

Kopovski  took  the  cigarette-case  ;  but  he  put  it  to  his  lips 
and  began  to  kiss  lightly  the  part  which  a  while  before  had 
touched  Lineta's  face.  Then  a  moment  of  silence  rose  be- 
tween them. 

"  We  must  go  from  here,"  said  Lineta. 

And,  taking  the  pot  of  orchids,  she  wished  to  put  it  on 
steps  in  the  conservatory  ;  she  was  not  able  to  do  so,  how- 
ever, because  of  the  slope  of  those  steps. 

"  Permit  me,"  said  Kopovski. 

"Ko,  no!"  answered  Lineta;  "it  would  fall,  and  be 
broken ;  I  vvill  put  it  on  the  other  side." 

Saying  this,  she  went  with  the  pot  of  orchids  in  her 


550  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

hands  around  to  the  other  side  of  the  steps,  where  between 
tliem  and  the  wall  was  a  narrow  passage.  Kopovski  followed 
her.  There  she  stepped  on  to  a  pile  of  bricks,  and  put  the 
orchids  on  the  highest  step ;  but  at  the  moment  when  she 
turned  to  descend,  the  bricks  moved  under  her  feet,  and 
she  began  to  totter.  Just  at  that  moment,  Kopovski,  who 
was  standing  behind,  caught  her  by  the  waist. 

For  a  few  seconds  they  remained  in  that  posture,  she 
leaning  with  her  shoulder  against  his  breast,  he  drawing 
her  toward  him.  Lineta  leaned  over  more,  so  that  at  last 
her  head  was  on  his  shoulder. 

"  What  are  you  doing  ?  This  is  wrong ! ''  she  began  to 
whisper,  with  panting  breast,  surrounding  him  with  her  hot 
breath. 

But  he,  instead  of  an  answer,  pressed  his  mustaches  to 
her  lips.  All  at  once  her  arms  embraced  his  neck  with  a 
passionate  movement,  and  she  began  breathlessly  and  madly 
to  return  his  kisses. 

In  their  ecstasy,  neither  observed  that  Osnovski,  in  re- 
turning through  the  open  doors  of  the  conservatory,  passed 
along  on  the  soft  sand  beyond  the  entrance,  and  looked  at 
them  with  a  face  changed  and  pale  as  linen  from  emotion. 


CHILDREN  OE  TUE  SOIL.  56] 


CHAPTER  LVL 

Meanwhile  Pan  Ignas  spent  the  time  between  Warsaw 
and  Buchynek,  going  from  one  place  to  the  other  daily,  re- 
maining now  here,  now  there,  just  as  his  work  and  business 
commanded.  Since  his  marriage  was  to  take  place  in  the 
fall,  immediately  after  the  season  in  Scheveningen,  Pan 
Stanislav  told  him  that  it  was  time  to  find  a  dwelling,  and 
furnish  it,  even  in  some  fashion.  He  and  Bigiel  promised 
every  assistance  in  that  alfair.  Pani  Bigiel  was  to  see  to 
the  part  which  pertained  to  housekeeping.  Pan  Ignas's 
presence  in  Buchynek  was  necessary  also  in  view  of  his 
relations  with  Panna  Helena.  Though  the  will  of  her 
father,  bearing  date  a  year  earlier,  made  her  the  only  heiress 
of  the  whole  immense  property,  she  did  not  hide  in  the  least 
that  she  knew  that  her  father  did  not  make  another  will 
simply  because  either  he  had  not  foreseen  a  death  so  sud- 
den, or  had  deferred  th(j  matter  from  day  to  day,  in  the 
manner  of  old  people.  She  had  not  the  least  doubt,  how- 
ever, that  her  father  wished  to  do  something  for  a  man  of 
the  same  name,  and  a  relative ;  and  she  said  openly  that 
she  held  it  a  duty  to  carry  out  her  father's  wish.  No  one, 
it  is  true,  could  foresee  in  what  measure  she  would  decide 
to  do  that;  and  for  her  too  it  was  difficult  to  answer  such  a 
question,  before  she  had  made  an  exact  inventory  of  all  the 
properties  and  moneys;  meanwhile,  however,  she  began  to 
present  Pan  Ignas  with  everything  which,  in  her  opinion, 
male  heirs  should  inherit.  In  this  way,  she  gave  him  a  part 
of  the  household  plate,  left  after  the  deceased,  as  well  as  a 
considerable  and  valuable  collection  of  arms,  which  the  old 
man  prized,  and  horses  greatly  esteemed  by  him,  —  these 
Polanyetski  took  on  commission ;  and,  finally,  that  collection 
of  pipes  the  fate  of  which  had  concerned  Kopovski  so 
much. 

Cold,  and  apparently  indifferent  to  all,  intimidating  people 
by  her  severe  and  concentrated  expression  of  face,  she  had 
for  Pan  Ignas  alone,  in  her  voice  and  look,  a  certain  some- 
thing almost  motherly;  just  as  if  with  the  property  she 
had  inherited  from  her  father  his  inclination  for  the  young 
man.     He  was  indeisd  the  only  person  on  earth  with  whom 


562  ClllLDllEN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

she  was  connected  by  bonds  of  blood,  or  at  least  by  identity 
of  name.  Learning  from  Pan  Stanislav  of  the  steps  taken 
by  Pan  Ignas  toward  furnishing  a  house,  she  begged  him  to 
put  iu  the  bank  for  her  a  considerable  sum  in  the  name  of 
"Pan  Ignas,"  for  outlays  toward  that  end,  begging,  how- 
ever, not  to  mention  the  matter  to  him  immediately. 

Pan  Ignas,  who  had  a  young  and  grateful  heart,  became 
attached  to  her  quickly,  as  to  an  elder  sister ;  and  she  felt 
perfectly  that  sympathy  of  two  natures,  who  wish  each 
other  well,  and  feel  mutual  confidence.  Time  usually 
changes  original  sympathies  of  that  sort  into  great,  enduring 
friendship,  which  in  evil  periods  of  life  may  be  of  great 
support.  But  at  that  juncture.  Pan  Ignas  could  devote  to 
her  barely  a  tiny  part  of  his  soul ;  for  he  had  applied  soul, 
heart,  and  all  his  powers,  with  the  entire  exclusiveness  of  a 
fanatic  in  love,  to  the  greater  and  greater  adoration  of 
"Nitechka." 

Meanwhile  he  was  as  busy  as  a  fly  in  a  pot,  between 
Buchynek  and  the  city,  and  even  made  new  acquaintances. 
One  of  these  was  Professor  Vaskovski,  who  had  returned 
from  his  pilgrimage  among  the  "  youngest  of  the  Aryans." 
He  had  visited  the  shores  of  the  Adriatic,  and  the  entire 
Balkan  peninsula;  but  the  state  of  his  health  was  so  pitiful 
that  Pan  Stanislav  took  him  for  good  to  Buchynek,  to  save 
the  poor  man  from  being  cheated,  and  to  give  him  needful 
care,  which  in  his  loneliness  he  could  not  have  found  iu 
another  place.  Pan  Ignas,  himself  a  person  of  lofty  soulj 
and  ready  to  grasp  every  broad  idea,  though  it  might  seem 
absurd  to  common-sense  fools,  conceived  from  the  first  day 
a  love  for  the  old  man,  with  his  theory  of  a  historical  mis- 
sion predestined  to  the  youngest  of  the  Aryans.  Of  this 
theory  he  had  heard  already  more  than  once  from  Svirski 
and  Polanyetski,  and  considered  it  a  splendid  dream.  But 
it  struck  him  and  Svirski  and  the  Polanyetskis  that  the 
professor,  on  returning  from  his  journey,  answered  only  that 
"No  one  could  escape  the  service  which  Christ  had  pre- 
ordained to  him;"  then  he  gazed  forward  with  his  mystic 
eyes,  as  if  seeking  something,  or  looking  for  something  in 
infinity,  and  his  old  face  took  on  an  expression  of  such 
deep  sorrow,  and  even  of  such  pain,  that  no  one  had  the 
heart  to  touch  that  particular  question.  The  doctor  called 
in  by  Polanyetski  declared  that  the  greasy  kitchen  of  the 
youngest  of  the  Aryans  had  given  the  old  man  a  serious 
catarrh    of  the  stomach,  to   which  was   added  viarasmus 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  553 

senilis.  The  professor  had,  in  fact,  a  serious  catarrh  of  the 
stomach ;  but  Pan  Ignas  divined  in  him  something  else,  — 
namely,  a  desperate  struggle  between  doubt  and  that  in 
which  he  believed,  and  to  which,  as  a  real  maniac-idealist, 
he  had  devoted  a  lifetime.  Pan  Ignas  alone  understood  the 
whole  tragedy  of  such  a  final  ej-ffo  ermvi;  and  he  was  doubly 
moved, —  first,  as  a  man  with  a  heart,  second,  as  a  poet,  who 
at  once  saw  a  theme  for  a  poem :  the  old  man  before  the 
house,  in  the  sun,  sittiug  on  the  ruin  of  his  life  and  beliefs, 
with  the  words,  "  vanity,  vanity,"  on  his  lips,  and  waiting  for 
death,  whose  steps  he  hears  now  in  the  distance. 

But  with  the  professor  it  was  not  so  bad,  perhaps,  as  Pan 
Ignas  had  imagined.  "The  youngest  of  the  Aryans" 
might,  indeed,  have  disappointed  him;  but  there  remained 
the  faith  that  Christianity  had  not  uttered  its  last  word  yet, 
and  that  the  coming  epoch  in  the  life  of  humanity  would 
not  be  anything  else  than  a  spreading  of  the  spirit  of  Christ, 
and  a  transfer  of  it  from  relations  between  individuals  to 
general  human  relations.  "  Christ  in  history  "  did  not  cease 
to  be  for  him  a  vision  of  the  future.  He  believed  even, 
always  that  the  mission  of  introducing  love  into  history 
was  predestined  to  the  youngest  of  the  Aryans ;  but  from 
the  time  of  his  journey  a  deep  sadness  had  seized  him,  for 
he  understood  that,  before  that  could  be  realized,  not  only  he, 
but  whole  generations,  must  die  of  catarrh  of  the  stomach, 
caused  by  the  indigestible  kitchen  of  principalities  on  the 
Danube. 

Meanwhile  he  shut  himself  up  in  himself,  and  in  silence 
which  had  more  the  appearance  of  life-sorrow  than  it  was 
in  reality.  Of  his  "  idea,"  he  hardly  ever  spoke  directly, 
but  the  idea  was  evident.  Just  as  the  hand  of  a  clock, 
stopped  at  a  certain  hour,  never  indicates  any  hour  but 
that,  so  the  indicator  of  his  thought  did  not  desert  that 
idea;  for  to  various  questions  he  answered  with  words 
which  were  rather  connected  with  it  than  the  thing  touch- 
ing which  he  was  questioned.  Whenever  they  wished  to 
caU  him  back  to  reality,  it  was  needful  to  rouse  him.  In 
dress  he  neglected  himself  utterly,  and  seemed  every  day  to 
forget  more  and  more  that  buttons  on  a  vest,  for  example, 
are  there  to  be  buttoned.  With  his  eternal  absence  of 
mind ;  with  his  eyes  both  short-sighted  and  child-like,  reflect- 
ing in  some  mechanical  way  external  impressions ;  with  a 
face  of  concern,  on  which  pimples  had  become  still  more  evi- 
dent because  of  defective  digestion  ;  finally,  with  a  neglect 


654  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

of  dress,  and  his  wonderful  trousers,  which,  it  is  unknown 
for  what  reason,  were  twice  as  wide  as  the  trousers  of  other 
men,  —  lie  roused  mirth  in  strangers,  and  became  frequently 
tbe  object  of  jokes  more  or  less  malicious.  It  seems  that 
he  roused  such  feelings  first  of  all  in  the  "  youngest  of  the 
Aryans."  In  general,  they  considered  him  as  a  man  in 
whose  head  tlie  staves  lacked  a  hoop ;  but  some  showed 
him  compassion.  The  word  "harmless"  struck  his  ears 
frequently,  but  he  feigned  not  to  hear  it.  He  felt,  how- 
ever, that  at  Pan  Stanislav's  he  was  comfortable ;  that  no 
one  laughed  at  him,  no  one  showed  him  the  compassion 
shown  idiots. 

Finally,  neither  the  too  greasy  kitchen  of  the  "youngest 
of  the  Aryans,"  nor  the  catarrh  of  the  stomach,  had  taken 
away  his  boundless  forbearance,  and  his  kindness  to  people. 
He  was  always  that  dear  old  professor  who  fell  into  revery, 
but  who  recovered  his  senses  when  it  was  a  question  of 
others.  He  loved,  as  of  old,  Marynia,  Pan  Stanislav,  Pani 
Emilia,  Svirski,  the  Bigiels,  even  Mashko,  —  in  a  word,  all 
those  with  whom  life  had  brought  him  in  contact.  In  gen- 
eral, he  had  a  certain  strange  understanding  of  people; 
namely,  that  all,  whether  willing  or  unwilling,  were  serving 
some  purpose,  and  were  like  pawns  which  the  hand  of  God 
is  moving  for  reasons  which  He  Himself  knows.  Artists, 
like  Svirski,  he  esteemed  as  envoys  who  "  reconcile." 

He  looked  in  the  same  Avay  on  Pan  Ignas,  whose  poetry 
he  had  read  before.  On  becoming  acquainted  with  the 
author,  he  looked  at  him  as  curiously  as  at  some  peculiar 
object ;  but  in  the  morning,  when  the  poet  had  gone  to  the 
city,  and  they  began  to  talk  about  him  during  tea,  the  old 
man  raised  his  finger,  and,  turning  to  Marynia,  said,  with  a 
look  of  mystery,  — 

"Oh,  he  is  God's  bird!  He  does  not  know  what  God 
wrote  on  his  head  nor  to  what  He  designed  him." 

Marynia  told  him  of  Pan  Ignas's  approaching  marriage, 
of  his  feeling  for  Panna  Lineta,  and  of  her,  praising  her 
goodness  and  beauty. 

"  Yes,"  said  the  professor,  when  he  had  heard  all,  "  you 
see  she  too  has  her  mission,  and  she  too  is  'chosen.'  God 
commanded  her  to  watch  over  that  flame ;  and  since  she  is 
chosen,  she  should  be  honored  for  having  been  chosen.  Do 
you  see  ?  Pavor  is  upon  her."  Then  he  grew  thoughtful 
and  added,  "All  this  is  precious  for  humanity  in  the 
future." 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  555 


Pan  Stanislav  looked  at  his  wife,  as  if  wishing  to  say  that 
tlie  professor  was  dreaming  disconnectedly;  but  the  latter 
blinked  somewhat,  and,  looking  before  him,  continued,  — 

"  There  is  in  the  sky  a  Milk}^  Way ;  and  when  God  wishes, 
He  takes  dust  from  it  and  makes  new  worlds.  And  you  see, 
I  think  there  is  likewise  a  spiritual  Milky  Way,  made  up  of 
all  that  people  have  ever  thought  and  felt.  Everything  is 
in  it,  —  what  genius  has  accomplished,  what  talent  has 
wrought;  in  it  are  the  efforts  of  men's  minds,  the  honesty 
of  women's  hearts,  human  goodness,  and  people's  pains. 
Nothing  perishes,  though  everything  turns  to  dust,  for  out 
of  that  dust,  by  the  will  of  God,  new  spiritual  worlds  are 
created  for  people." 

Then  he  began  to  blink,  weighing  what  he  had  said ;  after 
that,  as  if  coming  to  himself,  he  looked  for  the  buttons  of 
his  vest,  and  added,  — 

"  But  that  young  woman  must  have  a  soitl  pure  as  a  tear, 
since  God  pointed  her  out  and  designated  her  to  be  the 
guardian  of  that  lire." 

Svirski's  arrival  interrupted  further  conversation.  For 
Marynia  it  was  not  a  surprise,  as  the  artist  had  promised 
her  that  either  he  would  come  himself  or  write  to  inform 
her  what  turn  his  affair  had  taken.  Marynia,  seeing  him 
now  throu<^h  the  window,  was  nearly  certain  that  all  had 
ended  auspiciously  ;  but  when  he  had  entered  the  room  and 
greeted  every  one,  he  looked  at  her  with  such  a  strange 
face  that  she  did  not  know  what  to  divine  froin  it.  Evi- 
dently he  wished  to  speak  of  the  affair,  and  that  iminedi- 
atelyl  but  he  did  not  like  to  do  so  before  the  o  d  professor 
and  Pan  Stanislav.  So  the  latter,  to  whom  Marynia  had 
told  everything,  came  to  his  aid,  and,  pointing  to  his  wife, 

'""'^Sh;  needs  a  walk  greatly;  take  her  to  the  garden,  for  I 
know  that  she  and  you  have  some  words  ^  say. 

After  a  while  they  found  themselves  in  f  f/\^f y^^^J^ 

the   white   poplars.     They  waked   ^J'f\ZJX^maiov 

«?wavine  on  his  broad  hips  of  an  athlete,  and  seeking  toi 

oShLg  from  which  to  Vgin    she  bent    so.newbat  fo. 

ward,  witli  her  kindly  face  full  of  «";^««^Jy-   ^^^?,^^t      ' 
a  hur'ry  to  speak,  but  Svirski  began  at  ^no  her  poin 

"Have  you  told  all  to  your  husband?     asked  lie,  on  a 

'"  MaiTHia  blushed  as  if  caught  in  a  fault,  and  answered  - 
-  Yes  ;  for  Stas  is  such  a  ^-iend  of  yours,  and  I  do  not  liKe 
to  have  secrets  from  him." 


556  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

"  Of  course  not,"  said  Svirski,  kissing  her  hand.  "  You 
did  well.  I  am  not  ashamed  of  that,  just  as  I  am  not 
ashamed  of  this,  that  I  got  a  refusal." 

"Impossible  !     You  are  joking,"  said  Marynia,  halting. 

"  I  give  you  my  word  that  I  am  not."  And,  seeing  the  pain 
which  the  news  caused  her,  he  began  to  speak  as  if  with 
concern.  "But  don't  take  it  more  to  heart  than  I  do.  That 
happened  which  had  to  happen.  See,  I  have  come;  I  am 
standing  before  you ;  I  have  not  fired  into  my  forehead,  and 
have  no  thought  of  doing  so ;  but  that  I  got  a  basket  ^  is 
undoubted." 

"  But  why  ?  what  did  she  answer  you  ?  " 

"  Why  ?  what  did  she  answer  me  ? "  repeated  Svirski. 
"You  see,  just  in  that  is  hidden  something  from  which 
there  is  a  bitter  taste  in  my  mouth.  I  confess  to  you  sin- 
cerely that  I  did  not  love  Panna  Ratkovski  deeply.  She 
pleased  me  ;  they  all  please  me.  I  thought  that  she  would 
be  an  honest  and  grateful  heart,  and  I  made  a  declaration 
here ;  but  more  through  calculation,  and  because  it  was 
time  for  me.  Afterward  I  had  even  a  little  burning  at 
the  heart.  There  was  even  a  moment  when  I  said  to  my- 
self, 'Thy  declaration  in  Buchynek  was  not  precise  enough; 
better  put  it  forward  another  corner.'  I  grew  shamefaced 
*  What  the  deuce ! '  thought  I ;  '  thou  hast  crossed  the 
threshold  with  one  foot ;  go  over  with  the  other.'  And  I 
wrote  her  a  letter,  this  time  with  perfect  precision;  and 
see  what  she  has  written  as  an  answer." 

Then  he  drew  a  letter  from  his  coat-pocket,  and  said, 
before  he  began  to  read  it,  — 

"  At  first  there  are  the  usual  commonplaces,  which  you 
know.  She  esteems  me  greatly ;  she  would  be  proud  and 
happy  (but  she  prefers  not  to  be)  ;  she  nourishes  for  me 
sincere  sympathy.  (If  she  will  nourish  her  husband  as  she 
does  that  sympathy,  he  will  not  be  fat.)  But  at  the  end  she 
says  as  follows :  — 

" '  I  have  not  the  power  to  give  you  my  heart  with  such  delight  as 
you  deserve.  I  have  chosen  otherwise ;  and  if  I  never  shall  be  happy, 
I  do  not  wish  at  least  to  reproach  myself  hereafter  with  not  having 
been  sincere.  In  view  of  what  has  happened  here  I  cannot  write 
more ;  but  believe  me  that  I  shall  be  grateful  to  you  all  my  life  for 
your  confidence,  and  henceforth  I  shall  pray  daily  that  God  permit 
you  to  find  a  heart  worthy  of  you,  and  to  bless  you  all  your  life.' 

"That  is  all." 

*  Was  rejected. 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  557 

A  moment  of  silence  followed ;  then  Svirski  said, 

"  So  far  as  I  am  concerned,  these  are  empty  words ;  but 
they  mean,  I  love  another." 

"That  is  the  case,  I  suppose,"  replied  Marynia,  sadly. 
"Poor  girl !  for  that  is  an  honest  letter." 

"  An  honest  letter,  an  honest  letter ! "  cried  Svirski. 
«  They  are  all  honest,  too.  That  is  why  it  is  a  little  bitter 
for  me.  She  does  n't  want  me.  All  right ;  that  is  permitted 
to  every  one.  She  is  in  love ;  that,  too,  is  permitted.  But 
with  whom  is  she  in  love  ?  Not  with  Osnovski  or  Pan 
Ignas,  of  course.  With  whom,  then  ?  With  that  head  of  a 
walking-stick,  that  casket,  that  pretty  man,  that  tailor's 
model,  —  with  that  ideal  of  a  waiting-maid.  You  have  seen 
such  beautiful  gentlemen  depicted  on  pieces  of  muslin? 
That  is  he,  perfectly.  If  he  should  stand  in  a  barber's 
window,  young  women  would  burst  in  the  glass.  When  he 
wishes,  he  puts  on  a  dress-coat ;  when  not,  he  goes  so,  and 
all  right !  You  remember  what  I  said  of  him, — that  he  was 
a  male  houri?  And  this  is  bitter,  and  this  is  ill-tasting " 
(he  spoke  with  growing  irritation,  accenting  with  special 
emphasis  the  word  is),  "and  this  speaks  badly  of  women; 
for  be  thou,  0  man,  a  Newton,  a  Raphael,  a  Napoleon,  and 
wish  thou  as  thy  whole  reward  one  heart,  one  woman's 
head,  she  will  prefer  some  lacquered  Bibisi.  That 's  how 
they  are." 

"Not  all  women,  not  all.  Besides,  as  an  artist,  you 
should  know  what  feeling  is.  Something  falls  on  a  person, 
and  that  is  the  end  of  all  reasoning." 

"  True,"  said  Svirski,  calmly ;  "  I  know  that  not  all 
women  are  so.  And  as  to  love,  you  say  that  something 
falls,  and  there  is  an  end.  Perhaps  so.  That  is  like  a 
disease.  But  there  are  diseases  by  which  the  more  noble 
kinds  of  creatures  are  not  affected.  There  is,  for  instance, 
a  disease  of  the  hoofs.  You  will  permit  me  to  say  that  it 
is  needful  to  have  hoofs  in  order  to  get  this^  disease.  But 
there  has  never  been  a  case  that  a  dove  fell  in  love  with  a 
hoopoo,  though  a  hoopoo  is  a  very  nice  bird.  You  see  that 
doesn't  happen  to  the  dove.  Hoopoos  fall  :n  love  with 
hoopoos.  And  let  them  fall  in  love  for  themselves,  if  only 
they  will  not  pretend  to  be  doves.  That  is  all  I  care. 
Remember  how  I  spoke  once  against  Panna  Castelli  at 
Bigiel's.  And  still  she  chose  Pan  Ignas  at  last.  For  me, 
it  is  a  question  of  those  false  aspirations,  that  msincenty. 
and  those  phrases.     If  thou  art  a  hoopoo's  daughter,  have 


558  CHILDREN  OF  THE   SOIL. 

the  courage  to  own  it.  Do  not  pretend ;  do  not  lie  ;  do  not 
deceive.  I,  a  man  of  experience,  would  have  wagered  my 
neck  on  this,  that  Panna  Ratkovski  is  simply  incapable 
of  falling  in  love  with  Kopovski ;  and  still  she  has.  I  am 
glad  that  here  it  is  not  a  question  of  me,  but  of  comedy,  of 
that  conventional  lying,  —  and  not  of  Panna  Ratkovski, 
but  of  this,  that  such  a  type  as  Kopovski  conquers." 

"  True,"  said  Marynia ;  "  but  we  ought  to  find  out  why 
all  this  has  become  entangled  somehow." 

But  Svirski  waved  his  hand.  "Speaking  properly,"  said 
he,  "  it  is  rather  unravelled.  If  she  had  married  me ! 
surely  I  should  have  carried  her  at  last  in  my  arms.  I  give 
you  my  word.  In  me  immensely  much  tenderness  is  accu- 
mulated. I  should  have  been  kind  to  her,  and  it  would  have 
been  pleasant  for  both  of  us.  I  am  also  a  little  sorry  for  it. 
Still,  she  is  not  the  only  one  on  earth.  You  will  find  some 
honest  soul  who  will  want  me  ;  and  soon,  my  dear  lady,  for 
in  truth  at  times  I  cannot  endure  as  I  am.     Will  you  not  ?  " 

Marynia  began  to  be  amused,  seeing  that  Svirski  himself 
did  not  take  the  loss  of  Panna  Ratkovski  to  heart  so  very 
greatly.  But,  thinking  over  the  letter  a  little  more  calmly, 
she  remembered  one  phrase,  to  which  she  had  not  turned 
attention  at  first,  being  occupied  entirely  with  the  refusal, 
and  she  was  disquieted  by  the  phrase. 

"  Have  you  noticed,"  asked  she,  "  that  in  one  place,  she 
says,  'After  what  has  happened  here  I  cannot  write  more'? 
Can  you  think  what  that  may  be  ?  " 

"  Perhaps  Kopovski  has  made  a  declaration." 

"No;  in  such  a  case  she  would  have  written  more  ex- 
plicitly. If  she  has  become  attached  to  him,  she  is  a  poor 
girl  indeed,  for  likely  she  has  no  property,  and  neither  is 
Pan  Kopovski  rich,  they  say ;  therefore  he  would  hardly 
decide  —  " 

"True,"  said  Svirski ;  "you  know  that  that  came  to  ray 
mind,  too.  She  is  in  love  with  him,  —  that  is  undoubted ; 
but  he  will  not  marry  her."  Then  he  stopped,  and  said, 
"In  such  a  case,  why  is  he  staying  there  ?  " 

"  They  amuse  themselves  with  him,  and  he  amuses  him- 
self," answered  Marynia,  hurriedly,  while  turning  away 
her  face  somewhat,  so  that  Svirski  might  not  notice  her 
confusion. 

And  she  answered  untruly.  Since  Pan  Stanislav  had 
shared  his  views  with  her  touching  Kopovski's  relations 
with  Pani  Osnovski,  she  had  thought  of  them  frequently ; 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  559 

the  stay  of  the  young  man  in  Prytulov  seemed  to  her  sus- 
picious more  than  once,  and  explaining  it  by  the  presence 
of  Fanna  Eatkovski  dishonest.  This  dishonesty  was  in- 
creased, if  Panna  Ratkovski  had  fallen  in  love  really  with 
Kopovski.  But  all  those  intrigues  might  come  to  the  sur- 
face any  moment ;  and  Marynia  thought  with  alarm  then 
whether  the  words  of  Panna  Ratkovski  —  "after  what  has 
happened  here "  —  had  not  that  meaning  precisely.  In 
such  a  case  it  would  be  a  real  catastrophe  for  that  honest 
Pan  Osnovski  and  for  Panna  Steftsia. 

Really  everything  might  be  involved  in  a  tragic  manner. 

"  I  will  go  to-morrow  to  Prytulov,"  said  Svirski ;  "  I 
wish  to  visit  the  Osnovskis,  just  to  show  that  I  cherish  no 
ill-feelings.  If  anything  has  happened  there  really,  or  if 
any  one  has  fallen  ill,  I  shall  discover  it  and  let  you  know. 
Pan  Ignas  is  not  there  at  this  moment." 

"No.  Pan  Ignas  is  in  the  city.  To-morrow,  or  after 
to-morrow  surely,  he  will  come  here,  or  go  to  Yasmen. 
Stas,  too,  is  preparing  for  the  city  to-day.  Sister  Aniela  is 
ill,  and  we  wish  to  bring  her  here.  Since  I  cannot  go, 
Stas  is  going." 

"Sister  Aniela?  That  one  whom  your  husband  calls 
Pani  Emilia,  —  a  Fra  Angelico  face,  a  perfectly  sainted 
face,  a  beautiful  face  !  I  saw  her  perhaps  twice  at  your 
house.     Oh,  if  she  were  not  a  religious !  " 

"  She  is  sick,  the  poor  thing.  She  can  barely  walk.  She 
has  disease  of  the  spine,  from  overwork." 

"Oh,  that  is  bad,"  said  Svirski,  "  You  will  have  the  pro- 
fessor, and  that  poor  woman  —  But  what  kind  people  you 
are !  " 

"  That  is  Stas,"  replied  Marynia. 

At  that  moment  Pan  Stanislav  appeared  at  the  end  of  the 
walk,  and  approached  them  with  a  hurried  step. 

"I  hear  that  you  are  going  to  the  city  to-day,"  said 
Svirski;  "let  us  go  together." 

"  Agreed  ! " 

And,  turning  to  his  wife,  he  said,  — 

"  Marynia,  hast  thou  not  walked  enough  ?  Wilt  thou  lean 
on  me  ?  " 

Marynia  took  his  arm,  and  they  walked  to  the  veranda 
together ;  after  that  she  went  in  to  give  command  to  bring 
the  afternoon  tea. 

"  I  have  received  a  wonderful  despatch,"  said  Pan  Stan- 
islav; "I  did  not  wish  to  show  it  before  my  wife.     Osnov- 


560  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

ski  asks  me  where  Ignas  is,  and  asks  that  I  go  to  the  city 
on  his  affair.     What  can  that  be  ?  " 

"  It  is  a  wonderful  thing,"  answered  Svirski.  "  Panna 
Ratkovski  writes  me  that  something  has  happened  there." 

"  Has  any  one  fallen  ill  ?  " 

"They  would  have  sent  for  Pan  Ignas  directly.  If  it 
were  Panna  Castelli  or  Pani  Bronich,  they  would  summon 
him  at  once." 

"  But  if  Osnovski  did  n't  wish  to  frighten  him,  he  would 
telegraph  to  me." 

And  both  looked  each  other  in  the  eyes  with  alarm. 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 


CHAPTER  LVII. 

Next  day,  half  an  hour  after  Pan  Stanislav's  arrival, 
Osnovski  rang  at  his  house.  At  the  sound  of  the  bell.  Pan 
Stanislav,  who  had  been  in  great  alarm  since  the  day  before, 
went  himself  to  the  door.  He  had  admitted  for  some  time 
that  a  bomb  might  burst  in  Prytulov  any  day  ;  but  he  strug- 
gled in  vain  with  his  thoughts,  to  discover  what  connection 
the  explosion  might  have  with  Pan  Ignas. 

Osnovski  pressed  his  hand  at  greeting  with  special  force, 
as  is  done  in  exceptional  circumstances;  and  when  Pan 
Stanislav  invited  him  to  his  study,  he  asked  on  the  way, — 

"  Are  you  living  in  Buchynek  ?  " 

"  I  am  ;  we  are  perfectly  alone." 

In  the  study,  Osnovski,  when  he  had  sat  in  the  armchair 
pointed  out  to  him,  bent  his  head  and  was  silent  for  a  while, 
breathing  hurriedly  meantime ;  for  in  consequence  of  exces- 
sive exercise  he  was  affected  somewhat  with  distention  of 
the  lungs.  At  present  emotion,  and  the  steps,  obstructed  his 
breath  still  more.  Pan  Stanislav  waited  patiently  for  some 
time ;  at  last  his  inborn  curiosity  conquered,  and  he  asked,  — 

"  What  has  happened  ?  " 

"A  misfortune  has  happened,"  said  Osnovski,  in  deep 
sorrow.     "  Ignas's  marriage  is  broken  off." 

"Why?" 

"  Those  are  things  so  disagreeable  that  it  would  be  better 
for  Ignas  perhaps  not  to  know  the  reasons.  For  a  time,  I 
even 'hesitated  to  mention  them.  But  he  ought  to  know  all ; 
for  this  is  a  question  of  more  importance  than  his  self-love. 
Indignation  and  disgust  may  help  him  to  bear  the  misfortune. 
The  marriage  is  broken,  for  Panna  Castelli  is  not  worthy  ot 
such  a  man  as  Pan  Ignas;  and  if  to-day  there  could  be  a 
talk  of  renewing  the  relation,  I  would  be  the  first  to  veto 

it  decisively."  •       u  i.  -Pon 

Here  Osnovski  began  to   catch  breath  again;    but  l^an 

Stanislav,  who  had  been  listening  as  if  fixed  to  the  floor, 

burst  out  suddenl}',  — 

"  By  the  dear  God,  what  has  happened  .'' 


562  CHILDREN  OF  THE   SOIL. 

"  This  has  happened,  that  those  ladies  went  abroad  three 
days  ago,  with  Kopovski  as  the  betrothed  of  Panna 
Castelli." 

Pan  Stauislav,  who  a  moment  before  had  sprung  up  from 
the  chair,  sat  down  again.  On  his  face,  with  all  its  emotion 
and  alarm,  was  reflected  unspeakable  astonishment.  He 
looked  for  some  time  at  Osnovski,  and  then,  as  if  unable  to 
collect  his  thoughts,  said,  — 

"  Kopovski  ?  —  and  has  Panna  Castelli  gone  too  ?  " 

But  Osnovski  was  too  much  occupied  with  the  affair  itself 
to  turn  attention  to  the  particular  form  of  Pan  Stanislav's 
inquiry. 

"  It  is  unfortunate,"  said  he ;  "  you  know  that  I  am  re- 
lated to  those  ladies :  my  mother  was  a  sister  of  Pani 
Bronich,  and  also  of  Lineta's  mother ;  and  for  a  time  we 
were  reai«ed  together.  You  will  understand  that  I  would 
rather  spare  them.  But  let  that  go.  Our  relations  are 
broken ;  and,  besides,  if  Lineta  were  my  own  sister,  I  would 
say  what  I  say  now.  As  to  Pan  Ignas,  since  my  wife  and 
I  are  going,  and  that  to-day  I  nmy  not  find  him,  I  will 
even  say  openly  that  I  lack  courage  to  talk  with  him  ;  but 
I  will  tell  you  what  I  saw.  You,  as  his  near  friend,  may  be 
able  to  soften  the  blow ;  he  should  know  everything,  for  in 
a  misfortune  of  this  kind,  there  is  no  better  cure  than 
disgust." 

Here  he  began  to  tell  Pan  Stanislav  what  he  had  seen  in 
the  conservatory.  Excited  himself,  he  lost  breath  at 
moments,  but  was  unable  to  resist  a  certain  astonishment 
at  sight  of  the  feverishness  with  which  Pan  Stanislav 
listened.  He  had  hoped  for  cool  blood  in  the  man ;  he 
could  not,  of  course,  divine  that  Pan  Stanislav  had  personal 
reasons,  in  virtue  of  which  a  narrative  of  that  ^  sort  acted 
more  powerfully  on  his  nerves  than  would  news  even  of  the 
death  of  Pan  Ignas  or  Panna  Castelli. 

"At  the  first  moment  I  lost  my  head,"  continued  Osnov- 
ski ;  "  I  am  not  hasty,  but  how  I  avoided  breaking  his  bones, 
I  know  not.  Perhaps  I  remembered  that  he  was  my  guest ; 
perhaps,  since  it  is  a  question  here  of  something  more  im- 
portant than  he,  I  thought  of  Ignas ;  perhaps  I  thought  of 
nothing.  I  lost  my  head,  and  went  out.  After  a  time  I  re- 
turned, and  told  him  to  follow  me.  I  saw  that  he  was  pale, 
but  decided.  In  my  own  room  I  told  him  that  he  had  acted 
unworthily ;  that  he  had  abused  the  hospitality  of  an  honor- 
able house;  and  that  Lineta  was  a  wretch,  for  whom  I  had 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  563 

not  sufficient  words  of  contempt ;  that,  by  this  same  act,  her 
marriage  with  Pan  Ignas  was  broken,  —  but  that  I  would 
force  him  to  marry  her,  though  I  had  to  go  to  extremities. 
Here  it  turned  out  that  they  must  have  taken  counsel  dur- 
ing the  interval  in  which  I  left  them  alone ;  for  he  told  me 
that  he  had  been  in  love  with  Lineta  a  long  time,  and  that 
he  was  ready  to  marry  her  at  any  moment.  As  to  Pan 
Ignas,  I  felt  that  Kopovski  was  repeating  words  which 
Linfeta  had  dictated,  for  he  told  me  that  which  he  could  not 
have  come  at  himself.  He  said  that  he  was  ready  to  give 
every  satisfaction,  but  that  he  was  not  bound  to  count  with 
Pan  Ignas,  for  he  had  no  obligations  touching  him  :  *  Panna 
Lineta  has  chosen  me  finally;  that,'  said  he,  *is  all  the 
worse  for  him,  but  it  is  her  affair.'  What  was  going  on 
meanwhile  between  aunt  and  Lineta,  I  cannot  tell ;  it  is 
enough  that  before  I  had  finished  with  Kopovski,  Aunt 
Bronich  rushed  in  like  a  fury,  with  reproaches,  saying  that 
I  and  my  wife  had  not  permitted  Lineta  to  follow  the 
natural  impulse  of  her  heart ;  that  we  had  thrust  her  on 
Pan  Ignas,  whom  she  had  never  loved;  that  Lineta  had 
cried  whole  nights,  and  that  she  would  have  paid  for  that 
marriage  with  her  life ;  that  what  happened  now  was  by  tlie 
express  will  of  God,  —  and  so  for  a  whole  hour.  We  are  to 
blame;  Pan  Ignas  is  to  blame,  — they  alone  are  faultless." 

Here  Osnovski  rubbed  his  forehead  with  his  hand,  and 
said, — 

"  I  am  thirty-six  years  of  age ;  but  before  this  affair  I 
could  not  even  imagine  what  woman's  perversity  may  be. 
I  cannot  understand  yet  such  an  inconceivable  power  of 
perverting  things,  of  placing  them  bottom  upward.  I  un- 
derstand what  the  situation  was ;  I  understand  that  they 
thought  evervthing  finished  with  Pan  Ignas,  even  for  this 
alone,  that  I  hindered,  and  that  there  was  no  one  left  for 
them  save  Kopovski.  But  the  ease  with  which  white  was 
made  black,  and  black  white ;  that  lack  of  moral  sense,  that 
absence  of  truth  and  justice,  —that  egotism  without  bound 
or  bottom.  The  deuce  might  take  them  were  it  not  for 
Ignas.  He  would  have  been  most  unhappy  with  them  ;  but 
what  a  blow  for  a  man  of  such  nature,  and  so  much  in  love ; 
what  a  deception  !  But  Lineta!  Who  could  have  supposed  ? 
Kopovski,  such  a  fool,  such  a  fool !  And  that  young  woman 
thought  to  be  so  full  of  impulses;  she  who  a  few  weeks  be- 
fore exchanged  rings,  and  gave  her  word !  And  she  the 
betrothed  of  Pan  Ignas !  As  God  lives,  a  man  might  lose 
his  senses." 


564  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

"A  man  might  lose  his  senses,"  repeated  Pan  Stanislav, 
as  an  echo. 

A  moment  of  silence  followed. 

"  But  is  it  long  since  this  happened? "  asked  Pan 
Stanislav,  at  last. 

"  Three  days  ago  they  went  to  Scheveningen  together. 
They  started  that  very  day ;  Kopovski  had  a  passport.  See 
how. a  supreme  ass  may  still  have  some  cunning.  He  had 
a  passport  ready,  for  he  pretended  to  pay  court  to  Paima 
Eatkovski,  my  cousin,  and  to  be  ready  to  go  abroad  with 
us ;  he  pretended  to  be  courting  this  one,  so  as  to  have  the 
chance  of  turning  the  other  one's  head.  Ai,  poor  Pan 
Ignas,  poor  man!  I  give  you  my  word,  that  if  he  had  been 
my  brother,  I  should  not  have  had  more  sympathy  for  him. 
Better,  better,  that  he  had  not  bound  himself  to  such  a 
Lineta ;  but  what  a  crash !  " 

Here  Osnovski  took  out  a  handkerchief  and  rubbed  his 
glasses,  blinking  meanwhile  with  a  suffering  and  helpless 
expression  of  face. 

"Why  did  you  not  inform  us  earlier?"  inquired  Pan 
Stanislav. 

"  Why  did  I  not  inform  you  earlier?  Because  my  wife 
fell  ill.  Nervous  attacks  —  God  knows  what!  You  will 
not  believe  how  she  took  it  to  heart.  And  no  wonder ! 
Such  a  woman  as  she  is  —  and  in  our  house !  With  her 
sensitiveness,  that  was  a  blow,  for  it  was  a  deception  on  the 
part  of  Lineta,  whom  she  loved  so  much ;  and  her  sorrow 
for  Ignas,  and  that  contact  with  evil,  and  her  disgust !  On 
such  a  pure  and  sensitive  nature  as  hers  is,  that  was  more 
than  was  needed.  At  the  first  moments  I  thought  that  she 
would  be  dangerously  ill,  and  even  now  I  say,  God  grant 
that  it  have  iio  fatal  effect  on  her  nerves!  We  simply 
cannot  give  an  account  to  ourselves  of  what  takes  place  in 
a  soul  like  hers  at  the  very  sight  of  evil." 

Pan  Stanislav  looked  carefully  at  Osnovski,  bit  his 
mustache,  and  was  silent. 

"  I  sent  for  the  doctor, "  continued  Osnovski,  after  a  while, 
"and  lost  my  head  a  second  time.  Happily,  Stefania 
Ratkovski  was  there,  and  that  worthy  Pani  Mashko.  Both 
occupied  themselves  with  Anetka  so  earnestly  that  I  shall 
be  grateful  to  them  for  a  lifetime.  Pani  IVIashko  seems 
cold,  but  she  is  such  a  cordial  person  —  " 

"I  judge  simply,"  said  Pan  Stanislav,  wishing  to  turn 
the  conversation  from  Pani  Mashko,  "that  if  old  Zavilovski 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  665 

had  left  his  property  to  Ignas,  all  this  would  not  have 
happened." 

"Perhaps  not;  but  for  me  again  it  is  not  subject  to 
doubt  that  if  Lineta  had  married  Ignas,  and  even  if  he  owned 
all  Pan  Zavilovski's  property,  her  instinct  would  attract  her 
toward  as  many  Kopovskis  as  she  might  chance  to  meet  in 
her  lifetime;  she  is  that  kind  of  soul.  But  I  understand 
some  points;  I  have  said  that  it  is  possible  to  lose  one's 
mind  at  the  thought  that  things  are  as  they  are,  but  I  give 
a  partial  account  to  myself  of  what  has  happened.  Hera 
is  too  common  a  nature  to  love  really  such  a  man  as  Pan 
Ignas;  she  needs  Kopovskis.  But  they  talked  into  her 
various  lofty  impulses,  and  finally  she  talked  into  herself 
that  which  did  not  exist.  They  seized  on  Ignas  through 
vanity,  through  self-love,  because  of  public  opinion,  and 
because  they  liad  no  true  knowledge  of  themselves;  but 
what  is  insincere  cannot  last.  From  the  moment  when 
their  vanity  was  satisfied,  Ignas  ceased  to  interest  those 
ladies.  Then  they  were  afraid  that  with  him,  perhaps, 
they  would  not  have  such  a  life  as  alone  is  of  worth  to 
them;  perhaps  he,  with  his  too  lofty  style,  began  to  weary 
them.  Add  to  this  the  story  of  the  will,  which,  without 
being  certainly  the  main  cause  of  the  catastrophe,  dimin- 
ished Pan  Ignas  in  their  eyes;  add,  before  all,  the  instincts 
of  Lineta's  nature;  add  Kopovski,  and  you  have  an  answer 
to  all.  There  are  women  like  Pani  Polanyetski  or  my 
Anetka;  there  are  women,  also,  like  Lineta  and  her  aunt." 

Here  Osnovski  was  silent  again  for  a  time;  then  he 
said, — 

"I  see  the  regret  and  indignation  of  your 'wife,  and  I 
am  sorry  that  you  have  not  seen  how  this  affected  mine  — 
or  even  Pani  Mashko.  Yes,  there  are  women  and  women; 
but  I  tell  you  that  we  ought  to  thank  God  every  day  on 
our  knees  for  having  given  us  such  wives  as  we  have." 
And  his  voice  trembled  Avith  emotion. 

Pan  Stanislav,  though  for  him  it  was  a  question  mainly 
of  Ir'an  Ignas,  was  simply  astounded  that  a  man  who,  some 
minutes  before,  understood  things  so  profoundly  and  well, 
could  be  so  naive.  A  bitter  smile  came  on  him,  too,  at 
mention  of  Pani  Mashko's  indignation.  In  general,  he  was 
seized  by  a  feeling  of  a  certain  crushing  irony  of  life,  the 
whole  immensity  of  which  he  had  never  seen  before  so 
distinctly.  ,  ,, 

"Will  you  not  see  Ignas?"  asked  he,  after  a  while. 


566  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

"I  tell  you  plainly  that  I  do  not  feel  sufficient  courage; 
to-day  I  return  to  Frytulov,  and  to-day  we  will  go  from 
our  station.  I  must  take  my  wife  abroad,  —  first,  because 
she  herself  begged  me  tearfully  to  do  so,  and  second,  per- 
haps her  health  will  be  restored  by  change  of  air.  We 
will  go  somewhere  to  the  seaside,  only  not  to  Scheveningen, 
where  they  went  with  Kopovski.  But  I  have  a  great  re- 
quest to  make  of  you.  You  know  how  I  love  and  value 
Ignas?  Let  me  know  by  letter  how  the  poor  man  receives 
the  news,  and  what  happens  to  him.  I  would  ask  the  favor 
of  Svirski,  but  I  may  not  see  him." 

Then  Osnovski  covered  his  face  and  said,  — 

"Ai!  how  sad  all  this  is,  how  sad!" 

"  Very  well,"  said  Pan  Stanislav ;  *'  send  me  your  address, 
and  I  will  report  to  you  how  matters  turn.  But  since  tlie 
grievous  mission  falls  to  me  of  telling  Ignas  what  has 
happened,  lighten  it  for  me.  It  is  necessary  that  he 
receive  information  not  from  a  third  person,  or  a  fourth, 
but  from  some  one  who  saw  everything.  If  he  hears  of 
the  event  from  me,  he  may  think  that  1  represent  the  affair 
inaccurately.  In  such  cases  a  man  grasps  at  every  shadow 
of  a  hope.  Sit  down  and  write  to  him.  I  will  give  him 
your  letter  in  support  of  what  I  tell  him;  otherwise  he 
may  be  ready  to  fly  after  them  to  Scheveningen.  I  con- 
sider such  a  letter  indispensable." 

"Will  he  not  come  here  soon?" 

"No;  his  father  is  sick,  and  he  is  with  him.  He  thinks 
that  I  shall  be  here  only  in  the  afternoon.  Write  to  him 
surely." 

"You  are  right,  perfectly  right,"  said  Osnovski.  And 
he  sat  down  at  the  writing-desk. 

"Irony  of  life,  irony  of  life!"  thought  Pan  Stanislav; 
"bloody  irony  is  this  which  has  met  Pan  Ignas.  What 
is  such  a  person  as  Panna  Castelli,  with  her  bearing  of  a 
.swan,  and  her  instincts  of  a  chambermaid,  — that  *  chosen 
of  God,'  as  Vaskovski  said  only  yesterday?  What  is  Pani 
Bronich,  and  Osnovski,  with  faith  in  his  wife,  and  the 
nervous  attacks  of  that  wife,  caused  by  the  mere  contact 
with  evil,  of  such  a  pure  soul,  and  the  indignation  of  Pani 
Mashko?  Nothing  but  a  ridiculous  human  comedy,  in 
which  some  are  deceiving  others,  and  others  deceiving 
themselves;  nothing  but  deceived  and  deceivers;  nothing 
but  mistakes,  blindness,  and  errors,  and  lies  of  life,  and 
victims  of  error,  victims  of  deceit,  victims  of  illusions; 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  567 

a  complication  without  issue;  a  ridiculous,  farcical,  aud 
desperate  irony,  covering  the  feelings,  the  passions,  and 
hopes  of  people,  just  as  snow  covers  fields  in  winter  — 
and  that  is  life." 

These  thoughts  were  for  Pan  Stanislav  more  grievous 
because,  rising  on  a  basis  purely  personal,  they  became  at 
once  a  kind  of  reckoning  with  his  conscience.  He  was 
enough  of  an  egoist  to  refer  everything  to  himself;  and 
he  was  not  fool  enough  not  to  see  that  in  that  most  ironical 
human  comedy  he  was  playing  a  role  immensely  abject. 
His  position  was  of  that  sort  that  he  wished  with  all  the 
power  of  his  breath  to  hiss  that  Panna  Castelli;  and  still 
he  understood  that  if  there  was  any  one  who  was  not  free 
to  judge  her,  it  was  he.  In  what  was  he  better?  In  what 
was  he  less  vile?  She  had  betrayed  a  man  for  a  fool;  he 
had  betrayed  his  wife  for  a  brainless  puppet.  She  had 
followed  her  instincts  of  a  milliner;  he  had  followed  his  in- 
stincts of  an  ape.  But  she  had  trampled  on  artificial 
phrases  merely,  with  which  she  deceived  herself  and  others; 
he  had  trampled  on  principles.  She  had  betrayed  confi- 
dence, and  broken  her  word;  he  had  betrayed  confidence 
also,  and  broken  more  than  a  word, — be  had  broken  an 
oath.  And  in  view  of  this  what  can  he  say?  Has  he  the 
right  to  condemn  her?  If  there  is  no  way  to  justify  her, 
if  he  is  ready  to  acknowledge  that  it  would  be  unjust  and 
deserving  of  indignation  for  a  person  like  her  to  become 
the  wife  of  Pan  Ignas,  with  what  right  is  he  the  husband 
of  Marynia?  If  he  can  find  even  one  word  of  condemna- 
tion for  Panna  Castelli,  — and  it  i§  impossible  not  to  find 
it,  —  and  he  wishes  to  be  consistent,  he  should  separate 
from  Marynia,  which  he  will  never  have  either  the  will  or 
the  power  to  do.  There  is  a  vicious  circle  for  you.  Pan 
Stanislav  had  passed  many  bitter  moments  because  of  his 
success  ;  but  this  moment  was  so  grievous  that  it  even  filled 
him  with  amazement.  By  degrees  it  became  simply  a 
torture.  At  last,  through  the  simple  instinct  of  self- 
preservation,  he  began  to  seek  for  something  to  give  him 
even  momentary  relief.  But  in  vain  did  he  say  to  himself 
that  such  people  as  Kopovski  would  not  have  taken  his 
position  to  heart  so.  That  was  the  same  consolation  to 
him  as  if  he  had  thought  that  a  cat  or  a  horse  would  not 
have  taken  it  to  heart  so  either.  In  vain  he  rememt^red 
the  words  of  Balzac:  "Infidelity,  when  undiscovered,  is 
nothing;  when  discovered,  it  is  a  trifle."    "That  s  a  lie, 


568  childrp:n  of  the  soil. 

repeated  he,  gritting  his  teeth,  "a  pleasant  nothing ,  which 
burns  so ! "  He  understood,  it  is  true,  that  behind  the 
fact  itself  there  may  be  something  which  heightens  or 
lessens  its  criminality;  and  he  understood  also  that  in 
his  case  all  the  circumstances  are  of  a  kind  to  make  the 
fault  immense  and  unpardonable.  "Here,"  thought  he, 
"it  takes  from  me  the  right  of  judging,  the  right  of  serv- 
ing with  my  conscience.  Those  women  sacrificed  a  man 
of  the  loftier  kind  for  an  idiot;  they  trampled  him;  they 
pushed  him  into  misfortune,  into  tragedy,  which  may 
break  him;  they  did  this  in  a  mean  and  abject  manner, 
and  I  cannot,  even  in  my  soul,  brand  such  a  woman  as 
Panna  Castelli."  And  never  before  had  the  truth  become 
to  him  so  nearly  tangible  that  as  a  man  for  certain  crimes 
is  deprived  of  a  share  in  public  life,  so  he  now  had  become 
deprived  of  a  share  in  moral  life.  He  had  had  remorse 
enough  already,  but  now  he  saw  still  new  desolations, 
which  he  had  not  noted  at  first.  The  more  he  thought 
over  the  tragedy  of  Pan  Ignas,  and  took  in  its  extent  with 
growing  clearness,  the  more  he  was  seized  by  a  dull  alarm, 
and  a  kind  of  prescience  that  in  virtue  of  a  higher  and  mys- 
terious logic,  something  terrible  must  happen  in  his  fate 
as  well.  For  the  man  who  bears  in  his  system  the  germs 
of  mortal  disease,  death  is  a  question  of  time  simply. 

At  last,  however,  he  found  this  relief,  that  his  thoughts 
turned  exclusively  to  the  present,  and  to  Pan  Ignas.  How 
will  Pan  Ignas  receive  the  news?  How  will  he  bear  it?  In 
view  of  the  man's"  exaltation,  in  view  of  his  deep,  blind 
faith  in  Lineta,  and  the  love  which  he  feels  for  her,  these 
questions  were  simply  terrible.  "Everything  in  him  will 
be  broken;  all  will  slide  away  from  under  his  feet  in  a 
moment,"  thought  Pan  Stanislav.  It  seemed  to  him  that 
there  was  something  repulsive  and  monstrous  in  this,  that 
even  those  relations  of  life  which  do  not  bear  in  them 
germs  of  tragedy,  and  which  ought  to  end  well,  end  badly 
without  any  reason;  and  that  life  is,  as  it  were,  a  forest  in 
which  misfortunes  hunt  a  man  more  venomously  than  dogs 
hunt  a  wild  beast,  for  they  hunt  in  silence.  Pan  Stanislav 
felt  suddenly  that  besides  faith  in  himself,  which  he  had 
lost  already,  there  might  fail  in  him  various  other  things 
too,  which  are  more  important,  because  they  are  more 
fundamental. 

In  this  moment,  however,  he  thought  more  of  Pan  Ignas 
than  of  anything  else.     He  had  a  good  heart,  and   Pan 


CHILDUEN  OF  THE   SOIL  569 

Ignas  was  near  him;  lience  he  was  touched  sincerely  by 
his  misfortune.  "But  that  man  is  simply  writing  his 
sentence,"  thought  he,  as  he  heard  the  squeak  of  Osnovski's 
pen  in  the  next  room.  "Poor  fellow!  And  this  is  so 
undeserved." 

Osnovski  finished  the  letter  at  last,  and,  opening  the 
door,   said,  — 

"  I  have  written  guardedly,  but  written  the  whole  truth. 
May  God  give  him  strength  now!  Could  I  think  that  I 
should  have  to  send  him  such  news!  " 

But  under  the  sincere  sorrow  was  evident,  as  it  were,  a 
certain  satisfaction  with  his  own  work.  Clearly  he  judged 
that  he  had  succeeded  in  writing  better  than  he  had 
expected. 

"And  now  I  repeat  once  again  an  earnest  prayer:  send 
me  even  a  couple  of  words  about  Ignas.  Oh,  if  this  were 
not  so  irreparable ! "  said  he,  extending  his  hand  to  Pan 
Stanislav.  "Till  we  meet  again!  till  we  meet  again!  1 
will  write  to  Ignas,  too,  but  now  I  must  go,  for  my  wife  is 
waiting.  God  grant  us  to  see  each  other  in  happier  times! 
Till  we  meet!  A  most  cordial  greeting  to  the  lady,"  and 
he  went  out. 

*'Wliat  is  to  be  done?"  thought  Pan  Stanislav.  "Limit 
myself  to  sending  the  letter  to  Pan  Ignas  in  his  lodgings, 
or  look  for  him,  or  wait  for  him  here?  It  would  be  well 
not  to  leave  him  alone  at  such  a  time;  but  I  must  return  in 
the  evening  to  Marynia,  so  that  he  will  be  alone  in  any 
case.  Besides,  who  can  hinder  him  from  hiding?  In  his 
place,  I  should  hide  too,  —  I  must  go  to  Pani  Emilia's." 

He  felt  so  tired  from  that  sudden  tragedy,  from  thoughts 
about  himself,  and  thoughts  about  the  difficult  role  which 
he  had  to  play  with  Pan  Ignas,  that  he  remembered  with 
some  satisfaction  that  he  must  go  to  Pani  Emilia's  and 
take  lier  to  Buchynek.  Eor  a  moment  he  was  teiupted  to 
defer  the  interview  with  Pan  Ignas,  and  the  delivery  of 
the  letter,  till  the  following  day;  but  it  occurred  to  him 
that  if  Pan  Ignas  did  not  find  him  at  home,  he  might  go  to 
Buchynek.  1,1, 

"Better  let  him  know  everything  here,"  thought  he; 
"  in  view  of  Marynia's  condition,  I  must  keep  everything 
perfectly  secret  from  her,  —  both  what  has  happened,  and 
what  may  happen  hereafter.  I  must  warn  every  one  to  be 
silent.  Pan  I-nns  would  do  better  to  go  abroad;  I  could 
tell  :\Iarynia  that  he  is  in  Scheveningen,  and  later,  tliat 
they  disagreed  and  separated  there." 


570  CHILDREN  OF  THE   SOIL. 

Now  again  he  began  to  walk  with  long  strides  through 
the  room,  and  repeat,  — 

"  The  irony  of  life !  the  irony  of  life ! " 

Then  bitterness  and  reproaches  flamed  in  on  his  soul 
with  a  new  current.  He  was  seized  by  a  wonderful  feel- 
ing, as  it  were,  of  some  kind  of  responsibility  for  what 
had  happened.  "Deuce  take  it!"  repeated  he:  "but  I  am 
not  to  blame  at  least  in  this  matter."  After  a  while, 
however,  it  came  to  his  head  that  if  he  were  not  to  blame 
personally,  he,  in  every  case,  was  a  stick  from  the  same 
forest  as  Panna  Castelli,  and  that  such  as  he  had  infected 
that  social-moral  atmosphere  in  which  such  flowers  might 
spring  up  and  blossom.  At  this  thought  he  was  carried 
away  by  savage  anger. 

The  bell  in  the  entrance  was  heard  now.  Pan  Stanislav 
was  a  man  of  courage,  but  at  the  sound  of  that  bell  he  felt 
his  heart  beat  in  alarm.  He  had  forgotten  his  promise  to 
lunch  with  Svirski,  and  at  the  first  moment  he  was  sure 
that  Pan  Ignas  was  coming.  He  recovered  only  when  he 
heard  the  voice  of  the  artist,  but  he  was  so  wearied  that 
Svirski's  coming  was  disagreeable. 

"In'ow  he  will  let  out  his  tongue;  he  will  talk,"  thought 
he,  with  displeasure. 

But  he  decided  to  tell  Svirski  all,  for  the  r.ffair  could 
not  be  kept  secret  in  anj  case.  The  point  for  him  was 
rhat  Svirski,  if  he  visited  Buchynek,  should  know  how  to 
bear  himself  before  Marynia.  He  was  mistaken  in  sup- 
posing that  Svirski  Avould  annoy  him  with  theories  about 
ungrateful  hearts.  The  artist  took  the  matter,  not  from 
the  side  of  general  conclusions,  but  that  of  Pan  Ignas.  To 
conclusions  he  was  to  come  later;  at  present,  while  listen- 
ing to  the  narrative,  he  only  repeated,  "A  misfortune! 
May  God  protect!  "  But  at  times,  too:  "May  the  thunder- 
bolts crush!"  when  his  fists  of  a  Hercules  were  balled  in 
anger. 

Pan  Stanislav  was  carried  away  somewhat,  and  attacked 
Panna  Castelli  without  mercy,  forgetting  that  he  was 
littering  thereby  a  sentence  on  himself.  But,  in  general, 
the  conversation  gave  him  relief.  He  regained  at  last 
his  usual  power  of  management;  he  concluded  that  in  no 
case  could  he  leave  Pan  Ignas  at  such  a  moment,  so  he 
begged  Svirski  to  take  his  place,  conduct  Pani  Emilia  to 
Buchynek,  and  excuse  to  Marynia  his  absence  with  count- 
ing-house duties.     Svirski,  who  had  no  reason  now  to  visit 


CHILDREN  OF   THE   SOIL.  571 

Prytulov,  agreed  very  willingly,  and  since  the  carriage 
engaged  by  Pan  Stanislav  had  arrived,  both  drove  to  Pani 
Emilia's. 

Labor  beyond  her  strength  —  labor  which,  as  a  Sister  of 
Charity,  she  had  to  fulfil  —  brought  on  a  disease  of  the  spine. 
They  found  her  emaciated  and  changed,  with  a  trans- 
parent face  and  eyelids  half  closed.  She  walked  yet,  but 
by  leaning  on  two  sticks  and  not  having  full  use  of  her 
lower  limbs.  As  labor  had  brought  her  near  life,  so  sick-' 
ness  had  begun  to  remove  her  from  it.  She  was  living  in  the 
circle  of  her  own  thoughts  and  reminiscences,  looking  at 
the  affairs  of  people  somewhat  as  though  a  dream,  some- 
what as  from  the  other  shore.  She  suffered  very  little, 
which  the  doctors  considered  a  bad  sign ;  but,  as  a  Sister 
of  Charity,  she  had  learned  something  of  various  diseases, 
and  knew  tliat  there  was  no  help  for  her,  or,  at  least,  that 
help  was  not  in  human  power,  and  she  was  calm.  To  Pan 
Stanislav's  inquiries  she  answered,  raising  her  eyelids  with 
effort,  — 

"  I  walk  poorly ;  but  it  is  well  for  me  that  way." 

And  it  was  well  for  her.  One  moral  scruple  alone  gave 
her  trouble.  In  her  soul  she  believed  most  profoundly  that 
were  she  to  visit  Lourdes  she  would  regain  her  health 
surely.  She  did  not  wish  to  go  because  of  the  remoteness 
of  Lourdes  from  Litka's  grave,  and  because  of  her  own 
wish  for  death.  But  she  did  not  know  whether  she  had  a  right 
to  neglect  anything  to  preserve  the  life  given  her,  and  espe- 
cially whether  she  had  a  right  to  put  a  hindrance  in  the 
way  of  grace  and  miracles,  and  she  was  disturbed. 

At  present,  however,  the  thought  of  seeing  Marynia 
smiled  on  her,  and  she  was  ready  for  the  road ;  Svirski  was 
to  take  her  at  five.  The  two  men  went  now  to  the  lunch 
agreed  on,  for  Svirski,  in  spite  of  his  amazement  at  the 
affair  of  Pan  Ignas,  felt  as  hungry  as  a  wolf.  After  they 
had  sat  down  at  table,  they  remained  a  while  in  silence. 

"  I  wanted  to  make  one  other  request  of  you,"  said  Pan 
Stanislav  at  last,  "  to  inform  Panna  Helena  of  everything 
that  has  happened,  and  also  to  tell  her  not  to  mention  the 
matter  to  ray  wife." 

"  I  will  do  so,"  said  Svirski.  "  I  will  go  this  very  day  to 
Yasmen,  as  if  to  walk,  and  try  to  see  her.  Should  she  not 
receive  me,  I  will  send  her  a  note,  stating  that  it  is  a  ques- 
tion of  Pan  Ignas.  If  she  wishes  to  come  to  Warsaw,  I 
will  bring  her,  for  I  shall  return  to-day  in  every  case.    Did 


572  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

Osnovski  say  whether  Panna  Ratkovski  had  gone  with 
them,"  inquired  the  artist,  after  a  pause,  "  or  will  she  stay 
in  Prytulov  ?  " 

"  He  said  nothing.  Usually  Panna  Ratkovski  lives  with 
her  old  relative,  Paiii  Melnitski.  If  she  goes,  it  will  be  as 
company  for  Pani  Osnovski,  whose  angelic  nature  got  a 
palpitation  of  the  heart  at  sight  of  what  has  happened." 

''  Ah  !  "  said  Svirski. 

"  Yes.  There  is  no  other  cause  for  it.  Panna  Ratkovski 
was  stopping  with  the  Osnovskis,  so  that  Kopovski  might 
seem  to  court  her ;  but  since  he  was  courting  another,  there 
is  no  further  reason  for  her  stay  there." 

"  As  God  lives,  this  is  something  fabulous  !  "  said  Svir- 
ski ;  "  so  that  all,-  with  the  exception  of  Pani  Osnovski,  fell 
in  love  with  that  hoopoo." 

Pan  Stanislav  smiled  ironically  and  nodded  his  head ;  on 
his  lips  were  sticking  the  words,  "  without  exception,  with- 
out exception ! " 

But  now  Svirski  began  his  conclusions  about  women, 
from  which  he  had  refrained  so  far, 

"  Do  you  see ;  do  you  see  ?  I  know  German  and  French 
and  especially  Italian  women.  The  Italians  in  general 
have  fewer  impulses,  and  less  education,  but  they  are  hon- 
ester  and  simpler.  May  I  not  finish  this  macaroni,  if  I 
have  seen  anywhere  so  many  false  aspirations  and  such  dis- 
cord between  natures  which  are  vulgar  and  phrases  which 
are  lofty  !  If  you  knew  what  Panna  Ratkovski  told  me  of 
Kopovski!  Or  take  that  'Poplar,'  that  'Column,'  that 
*  Nitechka,'  that  Panna  Castelli,  that  Lily,  is  it  not  ?  You 
would  swear  that  she  was  a  mimosa,  an  artist,  a  sibyl,  a 
golden-haired  tall  ideal.  And  here  she  is  for  you  !  She 
has  shown  herself !  She  has  chosen,  not  a  living  person, 
but  a  lay-figure ;  not  a  man,  but  a  puppet.  When  it  came 
to  the  test,  the  sibyl  turned  into  a  waiting-maid.  But  I  tell 
you  that  they  are  all  palpitating  for  fashionable  lay-figures. 
May  thunderbolts  singe  them  !  " 

Here  Svirski  extended  his  giant  fist,  and  wanted  to  strike 
the  table  with  it ;  but  Pan  Stanislav  stopped  the  hand  in 
mid-air,  and  said,  — 

"  But  you  will  admit  that  something  exceptional  has  hap- 
pened." 

Svirski  began  to  dispute,  and  to  maintain  that  "  they 
are  all  that  way,"  and  that  all  prefer  the  measure  of  a 
tailor  to  that  of  Phidias.    Gradually,  however,  he  began  to 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  573 

regain  his  balance,  and  acknowledge  that  Panna  Ratkovski 
might  be  an  exception. 

"Do  you  remember  when  you  inquired  touching  the 
Broniches,  I  said  the  ladies  are  canaille,  canaille/  neither 
principles  nor  character,  parvenu  souls,  nothing  more  ?  He 
was  a  fool,  and  you  know  her.  God  guarded  me;  for  if 
they  had  known  then  that  I  have  some  stupid  old  genea- 
logical papers,  would  n't  they  have  made  sweet  faces  at  me, 
and  I  might  have  fixed  myself  nicely!  May  the  woods 
cover  me  !  I  will  go,  as  you  see  me,  with  Pan  Ignas  abroad, 
for  I  have  enough  of  this." 

They  paid,  and  went  out  on  to  the  street. 

"  What  will  you  do  now  ?  "  inquired  Svirski. 

"  I  shall  go  to  look  for  Pan  Ignas." 

"Where  will  you  find  him  ?  " 

"  I  think  among  the  insane,  with  his  father ;  if  not,  I 
will  wait  for  him  at  my  own  house." 

But  Pan  Ignas  was  approaching  the  restaurant  just  at 
that  moment.  Svirski  was  the  first  to  see  him  at  a 
distance. 

"  Ah,  there  he  goes ! " 

"  Where  ?  " 

"On  the  other  side  of  the  street.  I  should  know  him  a 
verst  away  by  his  jaw.  Will  you  tell  him  everything  ?  If 
so,  I  will  go.     You  have  no  need  of  spectators." 

"  Very  well." 

Pan  Ignas,  on  seeing  them,  hurried  his  steps  and  stood 
before  them,  dressed  elegantly,  almost  to  a  fit,  and  with  a 
glad  face. 

"  My  father  is  better,"  said  he,  with  a  voice  panting  a 
little ;  "I  have  time  and  will  drop  in  at  Prytulov  to-day." 

But  Svirski,  pressing  his  hand  firmly,  went  off  in  silence. 
The  young  man  looked  after  him  with  surprise. 

"Was  Pan  Svirski  offended  at  anything?"  asked  he, 
looking  at  Pan  Stanislav;  and  he  noticed  then  that  his  face 
too  had  a  serious,  almost  stern,  expression. 

"What  does  this  mean?"  asked  he,  "or  what  has 
happened?"  .        . 

Pan  Stanislav  took  him  by  the  hand,  and  said,  with  a 
voice  full  of  emotion  and  cordiality,  — 

"  My  dear  Pan  Ignas,  I  have  esteemed  you  always,  not 
only  for  exceptional  gifts,  but  for  exceptional  character;  I 
have  to  announce  very  bad  news  to  you,  but  I  am  sure  that 
you  will  find  in  yourself  strength  enough,  and  will  not  give 
way  to  the  misfortune," 


574  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

"  What  has  happened  ?  "  asked  Pan  Ignas,  whose  face 
changed  in  one  moment. 

Pan  Stanislav  beckoned  to  a  droshky,  and  said,  — 

''  Take  a  seat.  To  the  bridge  ! "  cried  he,  turning  to 
the  driver.  Then,  taking  out  Osnovski's  letter,  he  gave  it 
to  Pan  Ignas. 

The  young  man  tore  open  the  envelope  hurriedly,  and 
began  to  read. 

Pan  Stanislav  put  his  arm  with  great  tenderness  around 
his  friend's  body,  not  taking  his  eyes  from  his  face,  on  which 
as  the  man  read  were  reflected  amazement,  incredulity, 
stupefaction,  and,  above  all,  terror  without  limit.  His 
cheeks  became  as  white  as  linen;  but  it  was  evident  that, 
feeling  the  misfortune,  he  did  not  grasp  its  extent  yet,  and 
did  not  understand  it  thoroughly,  for  he  looked  at  Pan 
Stanislav  as  if  without  sense,  and  inquired  with  a  low  voice, 
full  of  fear,  — 

"  How  —  how  could  she  ?  " 

Then,  removing  his  hat,  he  passed  his  hand  through  his 
hair. 

"I  do  not  know  what  Osnovski  has  written,"  said  Pan 
Stanislav,  "  but  it  is  true.  There  is  no  reason  to  diminish 
the  affair.  Have  courage ;  say  to  yourself  that  this  has 
happened,  and  happened  beyond  recall.  You  were  lost  on 
her,  for  you  are  worth  more  than  all  that.  There  are  people 
who  know  your  worth,  and  who  love  you.  I  am  aware  that 
this  is  a  mighty  misfortune ;  your  own  brother  would  not 
be  pained  on  your  behalf  more  than  I  am.  But  it  has  hap- 
pened !  My  dear  Pan  Ignas,  they  have  gone,  God  knows 
whither.  The  Osnovskis  too.  There  is  no  one  in  Prytulov. 
I  understand  what  must  take  place  in  you ;  but  you  have  a 
better  future  by  yourself  than  with  Panna  Castelli.  God 
destined  you  to  higher  purposes,  and  surely  gave  greater 
power  to  you  than  to  others.  You  are  the  salt  of  the  eartli. 
You  have  exceptional  duties  to  yourself  and  the  world.  I 
know  that  it  is  difficult  to  wave  your  hand  at  once  on  tliat 
which  has  been  loved,  and  I  do  not  ask  you  to  do  so ;  but  you 
are  not  permitted  to  yield  to  despair  like  the  first  comer. 
My  dear,  poor  Pan  Ignas  !  " 

Pan  Stanislav  spoke  long,  and  spoke  with  power,  for 
he  was  moved.  In  the  further  course  of  his  speech  he 
said  things  which  were  not  only  heartfelt,  but  wise :  that 
misfortune  has  this  in  itself,  that  it  stands  still ;  while  a 
man,  whether  he  wishes  or  wishes  not,  must  move  on  into 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  675 

the  future ;  therefore  he  goes  away  from  it  ever  farther  ami 
farther.  A  man  drags,  it  is  true,  a  thread  of  pain  and  re- 
membrance behind  him ;  but  the  thread  grows  ever  more 
slender,  for  the  force  of  things  is  such  that  he  lives  in  the 
morrow.  All  this  was  true,  but  it  was  something  by  itself ; 
far  nearer,  more  real,  more  tangible  was  that  which  Osnov- 
ski's  letter  mentioned.  Beyond  the  fact  described  in  that 
letter  there  existed  only  empty  sounds,  striking  on  his  ears 
externally,  but  without  meaning,  and  for  Pan  Ignas  as  devoid 
of  sense  as  the  rattle  of  the  iron  lattice-work  on  the  bridge, 
past  which  he  was  driving  with  Pan  Stanislav.  Pan  Iguas 
could  feel  and  think  only  in  an  immensely  dull  way ;  he  had, 
however,  the  feeling  first  that  what  had  happened  was 
simply  impossible,  but  still  it  had  happened ;  second,  that 
in  no  measure  could  he  be  reconciled  to  it,  and  never  would 
he  be  reconciled,  —  a  fact,  however,  which  had  not  the  least 
significance.  There  was  no  place  in  his  head  for  another 
idea.  He  was  not  conscious  of  having  lost  anything  except 
Lineta.  He  was  not  conscious  of  pain  or  sorrow  or  ruin  or 
desolation,  or  the  loss  of  every  basis  of  life ;  he  knew  only 
that  Lineta  had  gone,  that  she  had  not  loved  him,  that  she 
had  left  him,  that  slie  had  gone  with  Kopovski,  that  the 
marriage  was  broken,  that  he  was  alone,  that  all  this  had 
happened,  and  that  he  did  not  want  it,  —  as  a  thing  in- 
credible, impossible,  and  dreadful.    Still,  it  had  happened. 

The  droshky  moved  slowly  beyond  the  bridge,  for  they 
were  passing  through  a  herd  of  oxen  driven  toward  the 
city ;  and  in  the  midst  of  the  heavy  tramping  of  these  beasts, 
Pan  Stanislav  continued.  Pan  Ignas's  ears  were  struck  by 
the  words,  "  Svirski,  abroad,  Italy,  art ; "  but  he  did  not 
understand  that  Svirski  meant  an  acquaintance,  abroad  a 
journey,  Italy  a  country.  Now,  he  was  talking  to  Lineta: 
"That  is  all  well,"  said  he;  "but  what  will  become  of  me? 
How  couldst  thou  forget  that  I  love  thee  so  immensely  ? 
And  for  a  time  it  seemed  to  him  that  if  he  could  see  her, 
if  he  could  tell  her  that  one  must  think  of  the  suffering  of 
people,  she  would  fall  to  weeping  and  throw  herself  on  his 
neck.  "And  so  many  things  unite  us,"  said  he  to  her; 
"besides,  I  am  the  same,  thine."  And  suddenly  his  jaw 
protruded;  it  began  to  tremble;  the  veins  swelled  in  his 
forehead,  and  his  eyes  were  filled  with  a  mist  of  tears.  Pan 
Stanislav,  who  had  an  uncommonly  kind  heart,  and  wno 
thought,  besides,  that  he  might  touch  his  feelings,  put  his 
arm  around  his  neck  suddenly,  and,  being  affected  himself, 


576  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

began  to  kiss  him  on  the  cheek.  But  Pan  Ignas's  emotion 
did  not  continue ;  he  returned  to  the  feeling  of  reality.  "I 
will  not  tell  her  that,"  thought  he,  "for  I  shall  not  see  her, 
since  she  has  gone  with  her  betrothed,  —  with  Kopovski." 
And  at  that  thought  his  face  became  rigid  again.  He  began 
then  to  take  in  effectively  the  whole  extent  of  the  misfortune. 
The  thought  struck  him  for  the  first  time  that  if  Lineta  had 
died,  his  loss  would  have  been  less.  The  gulf  caused  by 
death  leaves  to  believers  the  hope  of  a  common  life  oTi  the 
other  shore;  to  unbelievers,  a  common  nothingness; 
hence,  to  some  the  hope  of  a  union,  to  others  a  common 
fate.  Death  is  powerless  against  love  which  passes  beyond 
the  grave ;  death  may  wrest  a  dear  soul  from  us,  but  cannot 
prevent  us  from  loving  it,  and  cannot  degrade  it.  On  the 
contrary,  death  makes  that  soul  sacred ;  makes  it  not  only 
beloved,  but  holy.  Lineta,  in  taking  from  Pan  Ignas  her- 
self,—  that  is,  his  most  precious  soul, —  took  from  him  at  once 
the  right  of  loving  and  grieving  and  yearning  and  honor- 
ing ;  by  going  herself,  she  left  a  memory  behind  her  which 
was  ruined  in  full  measure.  Xow  Pan  Ignas  felt  clearly 
that  if  he  should  not  be  able  to  cease  loving  her,  he  would 
thereby  become  abject ;  and  he  felt  that  he  would  not  be 
able  to  cease  loving.  Only  in  that  moment  did  he  see  the 
whole  greatness  of  his  wreck,  ruin,  and  suffering.  In  that 
moment  he  understood  that  it  was  more  than  he  could  bear. 
"  Go  with  Svirski  to  Italy,"  said  Pan  Stanislav.  "  Suffer 
out  the  pain,  my  dear  friend  ;  endure  till  it  is  over.  You 
cannot  do  otherwise.  The  world  is  wide  !  There  is  so  much 
to  see,  so  much  to  love.  Everything  is  open  before  thee ; 
and  before  no  one  as  before  thee.  Much  is  due  to  the 
world  from  thee ;  but  much  also  to  thee  from  the  world. 
Go,  my  dear.  Life  is  around  thee ;  life  is  everywhere. 
New  impressions  will  come ;  thou  wilt  not  resist  them  ;  they 
will  occupy  thy  thought,  soften  thy  pain.  Thou  wilt  not  be 
circling  around  one  existence.  Svirski  will  show  thee 
Italy.  Thou  wilt  see  what  a  comrade  he  is,  and  what 
horizons  he  will  open.  Besides,  I  tell  thee  that  a  man  such 
as  thou  art,  should  have  that  power  which  the  pearl  oyster 
has,  of  turning  everything  into  pearl  simply.  Listen  to 
what  thy  true  friend  says.  Go,  and  go  at  once.  Promise 
me  that  thou  wilt  go.  God  grant  my  wife  to  pass  her  ill- 
ness safely;  then  we  may  journey  there  also  in  spring. 
Thou  wilt  see  how  beautiful  it  will  be  for  us.  Well,  Ignas, 
promise  me.     Dost  thou  say  yes  ?  " 


CHILDREN  OF  THE   SOIL.  577 

''Yes,"  answered  Pan  Ignas,  hearing  the  last  word,  but 
not  knowing  in  general  wliat  the  question  was. 

"  Well,  now,  praise  God,"  replied  Pan  Stauislav.  "Let  us 
return  to  the  city,  and  spend  the  evening  together.  I  have 
something  to  do  in  the  counting-house,  and  I  have  left  home 
for  two  days." 

Then  he  gave  command  to  turn  back,  for  the  sun  was 
toward  setting.  It  was  a  beautiful  day,  of  those  which 
come  at  the  end  of  summer.  Over  the  city  a  golden,  delicate 
dust  was  borne  ;  the  roofs,  and  especially  the  church  towers, 
gleamed  at  the  edges,  as  it  were  with  the  reflection  of  am- 
ber, and,  outlined  clearly  in  the  transparent  air,  seemed  to 
delight  in  it.     The  two  men  rode  for  some  time  in  silence. 

"  Wilt  thou  go  to  my  house,  or  to  thy  own  lodgings  ? " 
asked  Pan  Stanislav,  when  they  entered  the  city. 

The  city  movement  seemed  to  calm  Pan  Ignas,  for  he 
looked  at  Pan  Stanislav  with  perfect  presence  of  mind,  and 
said,  — 

"  I  have  not  been  at  home  since  yesterday,  for  I  spent 
the  night  with  my  father.  Perhaps  there  are  letters  for 
Tue ;  let  us  drive  to  my  lodgings." 

And  he  foresaw  correctly,  for  at  his  lodgings  a  letter 
from  Pani  Bronich  in  Berlin  was  awaiting  him.  He  tore 
open  the  envelope  feverishly,  and  began  to  read;  Pan 
Stauislav,  looking  at  his  changing  face,  thought,  — 

"  It  is  evident  that  some  hope  is  hidden  yet  in  him." 

Here  he  remembered  all  at  once  that  young  doctor,  who 
in  his  time  said  of  Panna  Kraslavski,  "I  know  what  she 
is,  but  I  cannot  tear  my  soul  from  her." 

Pan  Ignas  finished  reading,  and,  resting  his  head  on  his 
hand,  looked  without  thought  on  the  table  and  the  papers 
lying  on  it.  At  last  he  recovered,  and  gave  the  letter  to 
Pan  Stanislav. 

*'  Read,"  said  he. 

Pan  Stanislav  took  the  letter  and  read  as  follows :  — 

"  I  know  that  you  believed  really  in  your  feelinp:  for  Nitechka, 
and  that  at  the  first  moment  what  has  happened  will  seem  to  yon  a 
misfortune  ;  believe  me,  too.  that  to  me  and  to  her  it  was  not  easy  to 
resolve  on  the  decisive  step.  Perhaps  you  will  not  be  able  to  esti- 
mate Nitechka  well,  —  there  are  so  many  things  which  men  cannot 
estimate;  but  you  ought  to  know  her  at  least  enough  to  know  how 
much  it  costs  her  when  she  is  forced  to  cause  the  slightest  pain, 
even  to  a  stranger.  But  what  can  we  do !  such  is  the  will  of  Uod, 
which  it  would  be  a  sin  not  to  obey.     We  both  act  as  our  coq- 

37 


578  CHILDREN  OF  THE   SOIL. 

sciences  dictate ;  and  Nitechka  is  too  just  to  give  her  hand  to  you 
without  a  real  attachment.  What  has  taken  place,  has  taken  place 
not  only  in  conformity  with  the  will  of  God,  hut  in  conformity  with 
your  good  and  hers ;  for  if,  without  loving  you  sutficienlly,  she  had 
become  your  wife,  how  would  she  he  able  to  resist  the  temptations  to 
which  such  a  being  would  with  certainty  be  exposed  in  view  of  the 
corruption  of  society  ?  Besides,  you  have  your  talent ;  therefore  you 
have  something.  Nitechka  has  only  her  heart,  which  violence  would 
break  in  one  moment ;  and  if  it  seems  to  you  that  she  has  disappointed 
you,  think  conscientiously  whose  fault  is  the  greater?  You  have 
done  much  harm  to  Nitechka,  for  you  fettered  her  will,  and  you  did 
not  let  her  follow  the  natural  impulse  of  her  heart;  and  by  thus  doing 
you  sacrificed,  or  were  ready  to  sacrifice,  through  your  selfishness, 
her  happiness,  and  even  her  life,  for  I  am  convinced  that  under  such 
c<;)nditions  she  would  not  have  survived  a  single  year.  Neverthelesf 
may  God  forgive  you  as  we  forgive ;  and  be  it  known  to  you  that 
this  very  day  we  prayed  for  you  at  a  Mass  ordered  puiposely  for 
your  intention,  in  the  church  of  Saint  Yadviga. 

"  You  will  be  pleased  to  send  the  ring  to  Pan  Osnovski's  villa ; 
your  ring,  since  the  Osnovskis  had  to  go  abroad  too,  will  reach  you 
through  the  hands  of  Panna  Ratkovski.  Once  more,  may  God  for- 
give you  everything,  and  keep  you  in  His  protection ! " 

"  This  is  something  unparalleled !  "  said  Pan  Stanislav. 

"  It  is  evident  that  truth  may  be  treated  as  love  is,"  said 
Pan  Ignas,  with  a  heart-rending  sorrow ;  "  but  I  had  not 
supposed  that." 

"Listen  to  me,  Ignas,"  said  Pan  Stanislav,  who  under 
the  impulse  of  sympathy  had  begun  to  say  thou  to  Zavi- 
lovski ;  "  this  is  not  merely  a  question  of  thy  happiness, 
but  of  thy  dignity.  Suffer  as  much  as  may  please  thee ; 
but  it  is  thy  duty  to  find  strength  to  show  that  thou  art 
indifferent  to  all  this." 

A  long  silence  followed.  But  Pan  Stanislav,  remember- 
ing the  letter,  repeated  from  time  to  time,  — 

*•'  This  passes  human  understanding."  Finally  he  turned 
to  Pan  Ignas,  — 

"  Svirski  is  returning  to-day  from  Buchynek,  and  late  in 
the  evening  he  will  come  to  my  house.  Come  thou  too. 
We  will  pass  the  evening  together,  and  he  and  thou  will 
talk  of  the  journey." 

"  No,"  said  Pan  Ignas ;  "  on  my  return  from  Prytulov,  I 
was  to  spend  the  night  with  my  father,  so  I  must  go  to 
him.  To-morrow  morning  I  will  be  with  you  and  see  Svirski." 

But  he  merely  said  that,  for  he  wanted  to  be  alone. 
Pan  Stanislav  did  not  oppose  his  intention  of  spending  the 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  579 


night  at  the  institution,  for  he  judged  that  occupation  near 
the  sick  man,  and  care  for  him,  would  occupy  his  mind, 
then  weariness  and  need  of  sleep  would  come.  He  deter- 
mined, however,  to  drive  with  him  to  the  institution. 

In  fact,  they  took  fare  well  .only  at  the  gate.  Pan  Ignas, 
however,  after  he  had  remained  a  few  minutes  in  the  insti- 
tution and  inquired  of  the  overseer  touching  his  father, 
went  out  and  returned  home  by  stealth. 

He  lighted  a  candle,  read   Pani  Bronich's  letter  once 
more,  and,  covering  his  face  with  his  hands,  began  to  medi- 
tate.    In  spite  of  Osnovski's  letter  and  in  spite  of  every- 
thing which  Pan  Stanislav  had  told  him,  a  certain  doubt 
and  a  certain  hope  had  lingered  in  his  soul,  yet  he  knew 
that  all  was  over ;  but  at  moments  he  had  the  feeling  that 
that  was  not  reality,   but  an    evil  dream.      It  was  only 
Pani  Bronich's  letter  that  had  penetrated  to  that  little  cor- 
ner of  his  soul  which  was  unwilling  to  believe,  and  burned 
out  in  it  the  remnant  of  illusion.     So  there  was  no  Lineta 
any  longer ;  there  was  no  future,  no  happiness.     Kopovski 
had  all  that ;  for  him  were  left  only  loneliness,  humiliation, 
and  a  ghastly  vacuum.     There  was  left  to  him  also  the  im- 
pression that  if  "  Nitechka  "  could  have  snatched  from  him 
that  talent  too,  of  which  Pani  Bronich  made  mention^  she 
would  have  snatched  it  and  given  it  to  Kopovski      ^\  hat 
was  he  for  her  in  comparison  with  Kopovski  ?     '1  shall 
never  really  understand  this,"  thought  he;  "but  it  is  so. 
And  he  bet^an  to  meditate  over  this,  what  was  there  in  him 
so  abiect  that  she  should  sacrifice  him  thus  without  mercy, 
without  the  least  consideration,  to  take  less  note  of  him 
than  the  meanest  worm.     «  Why  does  ^^^^  l7«^^,Trnd 
and  not  me,  the  man  to  whom  she  confessed  love  ?       And 
he  recalled  how  once  she  had  quivered  J" /^^^^^J"";'^  ^^^'^ 
after  the  betrothal  he  gave  her  good-"^^^*-.  ^f  "\"°^^ '^^ 
is   quivering   in  Kopovski's   arms  in   precisely   the  same 
war  Audit  this  thought  he  seized  his  handkerchief  and 
squeezed  it  between  ^^^^^r^^T^^- 
Ped-     BuX-e  waTalime  when  he Jgnas,  did  not 
Fove  her-  why  did  she  not  marry  Kopovski  at  that  tnne? 
What   motTve^  could   she    have   to   trample   him    without 

"And  again  he  caught  after  the  letter  of  Pani  Broni^el^^ 
if  hoping  to  find  in  it  an  answer  to  these  ter    We  q^e^tio^i 
He  read  once  more  the  passage  about  the  will  of  (^d,  aiu. 


580  CHILDREN   OF  THE  SOIL. 

about  this,  —  that  he  was  guilty,  that  he  had  done  much 
harm  to  "  Niteehka,"  and  that  she  forgave  him,  and  about 
the  Mass,  which  was  celebrated  for  his  intention  in  Saint 
Yadviga's  ;  and  when  he  had  ended  he  began  to  gaze  at  the 
light,  blinking  and  saying,  — . 

"  How  is  that  possible  ?  How  have  I  offended?  "  And 
suddenly  he  felt  that  the  understanding  of  what  truth  is 
and  what  falsehood,  of  what  evil  is,  and  what  good,  and 
what  is  proper  and  improper,  began  to  desert  him.  Lineta 
had  gone  from  him,  taken  herself  from  him,  taken  his 
future,  and  now  one  after  another  all  the  bases  of  life  were 
gliding  away  —  and  reason  and  thought  and  life  itself.  He 
saw  yet  that  he  had  always  loved  this  "iJsitechka"  of  his 
beyond  life,  and  in  no  way  was  he  able  to  wish  any  harm 
to  her ;  but  besides  that  impression,  everything  which  com- 
poses a  thinking  being  was  crushed  into  dust  in  him,  and 
flew  apart  like  dust  in  that  mighty  wind  of  misfortune. 

Still  he  loved.  Lineta  became  divided  for  him  now  into 
the  Lineta  of  to-day  and  the  Lineta  of  the  past.  He  began 
to  call  to  mind  her  voice,  her  face,  her  bright  golden  hair, 
her  eyes  and  mouth,  her  tall  form,  her  hands,  and  that 
warmth  which  so  many  times  he  had  felt  from  her  lips. 
His  powerful  imagination  recreated  her  almost  tangibly  ; 
and  he  saw  that  not  only  had  he  loved  his  own  distant  one, 
but  he  loved  her  yet,  —  that  is,  he  yearned  for  her  beyond 
measure,  and  was  suffering  beyond  measure  for  the  loss  of 
her. 

And,  recognizing  this,  he  began  again  to  speak  to  her : 
"  How  couldst  thou  think  me  able  to  bear  this  ?  " 
At  that  moment  he  had  not  the  least  doubt  of  this  either, 
that  God  knew  the  position  very  well.     He  sat  a  long  time 
more   in  silence,  and   the   light   had   burned  out  half  its 
length  almost  when  he  came  to  himself. 

But  something  uncommon  took  place  in  him  then.  He 
had  an  impression  as  if  he  were  going  from  land  in  a  ship, 
and  that  seemed  to  him  which  seems  always  on  such  an 
occasion,  that  it  was  not  he  who  was  moving  away,  but  the 
shore  on  which  he  had  dwelt  hitherto.  Everything  —  that 
was  he,  and  in  general  his  life ;  all  thoughts,  hopes,  ambi- 
tions, objects,  plans,  even  love,  even  Lineta,  even  his  loss  ; 
and  those  vicious  circles,  and  those  tortures  through  which 
he  had  passed  —  seemed  not  merely  removed  from  him,  but 
foreign,  and  belonging  exclusively  to  that  land  off  there. 
And  gradually  they  sank,  gradually  they  melted,  becoming 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  581 

ever  smaller,  ever  more  visionary,  ever  more  dreamlike ; 
and  lie  went  on,  he  became  more  distant,  feeling  that  to 
that  foreignness  he  does  not  wish  to  retnrn,  that  he  cannot 
return,- and  that  all  which  is  left  of  him  belongs  to  the 
space  which  has  taken  him  to  itself,  and  opened  its  bosom 
before  him,  immense  and  mysterious. 


682  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 


CHAPTER  LVIII. 

Four  days  later,  on  the  Assumption  of  the  Most  Blessed 
Lady,  which  was  also  Marynia's  name's  ^  day,  the  Bigiels 
and  Svirski  went  to  Buchynek.  They  did  not  find  Marynia 
at  home,  for  she  was  at  vespers  in  the  church  of  Yasinen 
with  Pani  Emilia.  When  Pani  Bigiel  learned  this,  slie 
followed  them  with  the  whole  crowd  of  little  Bigiels.  The 
men,  left  alone,  began  to  talk  of  the  event  of  which  for  a 
number  of  days  the  whole  city  had  been  talking,  —  that  was 
of  the  attempted  suicide  of  the  poet  Zavilovski. 

"  I  went  to  see  him  to-day  three  times,"  said  Bigiel ;  "  but 
Panna  Helena's  servants  have  the  order  to  admit  no  one 
except  the  doctors." 

"  As  for  me,"  said  Pan  Stanislav,  "  this  is  the  first  day 
on  which  I  have  not  been  able  to  visit  him  ;  but  during  the 
previous  days  I  spent  a  number  of  hours  with  him  regu- 
larly. I  tell  my  wife  that  I  am  at  the  counting-house  on 
business." 

"  Tell  me  how  it  happened,"  said  Bigiel,  who  wanted  to 
know  all  the  details,  so  as  to  consider  them  exactly  after- 
ward in  his  fashion. 

"  It  happened  this  way,"  said  Pan  Stanislav.  "  Igrias 
told  me  that  he  was  going  to  the  institution,  to  his  father. 
I  was  glad,  for  I  judged  that  that  would  keep  him  away 
from  his  thoughts.  I  took  him,  however,  to  the  gate,  and 
he  promised  to  visit  me  next  day.  Meanwhile  it  turned 
out  that  he  wanted  to  be  rid  of  me,  so  as  to  shoot  himself 
undisturbed." 

"  Then  you  were  not  the  first  to  find  him  ?  " 

"  No ;  I  suspected  nothing  of  that  kind,  and  I  should 
have  looked  for  him  next  day.  Luckily  Panna  Helena 
came  at  the  mere  news  that  the  marriage  was  broken." 

"I  informed  her,"  said  Svirski,  "and  she  took  the  matter 
to  heart  so  much  that  I  was  astonished.  She  had  a  fore- 
warning, as  it  were,  of  what  would  follow." 

"  She  is  a  wonderful  person,"  said  Pan  Stanislav.  "  I 
have  not  been  able  to  learn  how  it  happened ;  but  she  found 
him ;  she  saved  him ;  she  called  in  a  whole  circle  of  doc- 
tors, and  finally  gave  command  to  take  him  to  her  house." 

^  I^ame's  day,  day  of  that  saint  whose  name  a  given  person  bears. 


CHILDREN  OF   THE  SOIL.  583 

"  But  the  doctors  insist  that  he  will  live  ?  " 

' '  They  kuow  nothing  yet  definitely.  In  shooting,  he  must 
have  turned  the  pistol  so  that  the  ball,  after  passing 
through  his  i'orehead,  went  up  and  lodged  under  the  skull. 
They  found  the  ball,  and  extracted  it  easily  enougli ;  but 
whether  he  will  live — and  if  he  lives,  whether  his  mind 
will  survive  —  is  unknown.  One  doctor  fears  a  disturbance 
in  his  speech  ;  but  his  life  is  in  question  yet." 

The  event,  though  known  generally,  and  described  every 
day  in  the  papers,  had  made  so  great  an  impression  that 
silence  continued  awhile.  Svirski,  who,  with  his  muscles 
of  an  athlete,  had  the  sensitiveness  of  a  woman,  burst 
forth, — 

"Through  such  women!" 

But  Vaskovski,  sitting  near,  said  in  a  low  voice, — 

"Leave  them  to  tlie  mercy  of, God." 

"  Is  it  possible  ?  "  said  Bigiel,  turning  to  Pan  Stanislav ; 
"and  thou  liadst  no  suspicion  ?" 

"  It  did  not  come  to  my  head  even  that  he  would  shoot 
himself.  I  saw  clearly  that  he  was  struggling  with  his 
feelings.  For  a  while,  when  we  were  riding,  his  chin 
trembled,  as  if  he  wished  to  burst  into  weeping;  but  he  is 
a  brave  soul.  He  restrained  himself  at  once,  and  to  ap- 
pearance was  calm.  He  deceived  me  mainly  by  his  promise 
to  come  next  day." 

"  Do  you  know  what  seems  to  me  ?  "  continued  he,  after 
a  while  ;  "  the  last  drop  which  overflowed  the  cup  was 
I'ani  Bronich's  letter.  Ignas  gave  it  to  me  to  read.  She 
wrote  that  what  had  happened  was  the  will  of  God ;  that  the 
fault  was  on  his  side;  that  he  was  an  egotist;  but  that 
they  were  obeying  the  voice  of  conscience  and  justice;  that 
they  forgave  him,  and  begged  God  to  forgive  him  too,  —  in 
a  word,  unheard  of  things  !  I  saw  that  that  made  a  des- 
perate impression  on  him,  and  I  imagine  what  must  have 
taken  place  in  a  man  so  injured  and  of  such  spirit,  when 
he  saw  that  in  addition  to  everything  else  injustice  was 
attributed  to  him  ;  when  he  understood  that  it  is  possible 
for  people  to  set  everything  at  naught  and  distort  it,  to 
trample  on  reason,  truth,  and  the  simplest  principles  of 
justice,  and  then  shield  themselves  behind  the  Lord  God. 
For  that  matter  I  was  not  concerned ;  but  when  I  saw  the 
cynicism,  the  want  of  moral  understanding,  as  God  lives,  I 
asked  myself  this  question  :  Am  I  mad,  and  are  truth  and 
honesty  mere  illusions  on  earth  ?  " 


684  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

Here  Pan  Stanislav  was  so  indignant  at  Pani  Bronich's 
letter  that  he  tugged  at  his  beard  feverishly,  and  Svirski 
said,  — 

"  I  understand  that  even  a  believer  may  spit  upon  life  in 
such  moments." 

Here  Yaskovski  rubbed  his  forehead  with  his  hand,  and 
then  said  to  himself,  — 

"  Yes ;  I  have  seen  that  kind,  too.  For  there  are  people 
who  believe,  not  through  love,  but  as  it  were  because  athe- 
ism is  bankrupt,  as  it  were  from  despair,  who  imagine  to 
themselves  that  somewhere,  off  behind  phenomena,  there 
is  not  a  merciful  Father,  who  places  his  hand  on  every 
unfortunate  head,  but  some  kind  of  He,  unapproachable, 
inscrutable,  indifferent ;  it  is  all  one,  in  such  case,  whether 
that  He  is  called  the  Absolute,  or  Nirvana.  He  is  ouly  a 
concept,  not  love.  It  is  impossible  to  love  this  He ;  and 
when  misfortune  comes,  people  spit  on  life." 

"  That  is  well,"  answered  Svirski,  testily  ;  "  but  mean- 
while Pan  Ignas  is  lying  with  a  broken  skull,  and  they 
have  gone  to  the  seashore,  and  it  is  pleasant  for  them." 

"  Whence  do  you  know  that  it  is  pleasant  for  them  ? " 
answered  Yaskovski. 

"  The  deuce  fire  them  !  "  said  Svirski. 

"But  I  say  to  you  that  they  are  unhappy.  No  one  may 
trample  on  truth  and  go  unpunished.  They  will  talk 
various  things  into  each  other,  but  one  thing  they  will  not 
be  able  to  talk  into  each  other,  —  that  is,  self-respect ;  they 
will  begin  to  despise  themselves  in  secret,  and  at  last  even 
that  attachment  which  they  had  for  each  other  will  be 
turned  into  secret  dislike.     That  is  inevitable." 

"  The  deuce  fire  them  ! "  repeated  Svirski. 

"  The  mercy  of  God  is  for  them,  not  for  the  good,"  con- 
cluded Yaskovski. 

Meanwhile  Bigiel  talked  with  Pan  Stanislav,  admiring 
the  kindness  and  courage  of  Panna  Helena. 

"  For  there  will  be  a  fabulous  amount  of  gossip  from 
this,"  said  he. 

"She  does  not  care  for  that,"  answered  Pan  Stanislav. 
"  She  does  not  count  with  society,  for  she  wants  nothing  of 
it.  She,  too,  is  a  resolute  soul.  She  showed  Pan  Ignas 
always  exceptional  attachment,  and  his  act  must  have 
shocked  her  tremendously.  Do  you  know  the  history  of 
Ploshovski  ?  " 

"I  knew  him  personally,"  said  Svirski.     "His   father 


CHILDKEN  OF  THE  SOU*  585 

was  the  first  man  in  Rome  to  predict  success  to  me.  Of 
Panna  Helena  they  say,  I  think,  that  she  was  betrothed  to 
Ploshovski." 

"No,  she  was  not;  but  in  her  secret  heart  perhaps  she 
loved  him  greatly.  Such  was  his  fortune.  It  is  certain 
that  since  his  death  she  has  become  different  altogether. 
For  a  woman  so  religious  as  she  is,  his  suicide  must  in 
truth  have  been  dreadful,  for  just  think,  not  to  be  able  even 
to  pray  for  a  man  whom  one  has  loved.  And  now  again 
Pan  Ignas  !  If  any  one,  it  is  she  who  is  doing  everything  to 
save  him.  Yesterday  I  was  there ;  she  came  out  to  me 
barely  alive,  pale,  weary,  without  having  slept.  And  there 
is  some  one  else  to  watch  with  her.  Panna  Eatkovski  told 
me  of  her,  that  for  four  days  she  had  n't  slept  one  hour,  per- 
haps." 

"  Panna  Eatkovski  ?  "  inquired  Svirski,  quickly ;  and  he 
began  mechanically  to  seek  with  his  hand  in  the  coat  pocket 
where  he  had  her  letter. 

He  remembered  then  her  words :  "I have  chosen  otherwise^ 
and  if  I  shall  never  he  happy,  I  do  not  wish  at  least  to 
reproach  myself  afterwards  with  insincerity."  "Now  for  the 
first  time  I  understand  the  meaning  and  real  tragedy  of 
those  words.  Now,  in  spite  of  all  social  appearances,  with- 
out regard  to  the  tongues  of  people,  this  young  gjirl  has 
gone  to  watch  over  that  suicide.  What  could  this  mean  ? 
The  case  is  clear  as  the  sun.  It  is  true  that  Kopovski 
went  abroad  with  another;  but  she  had  expi-essed  always 
openly  what  she  thought  of  Kopovski,  and  if  she  had  cared 
nothing  for  Pan  Ignas,  she  would  not  have  gone  this  time 
to  watch  at  his  bedside.  It  seems  to  me  that  I  am  an  ass," 
muttered  Svirski. 

But  that  was  not  the  only  conclusion  to  which  he  came 
after  mature  consideration.  All  at  once  a  yearning  for 
Panna  Eatkovski  took  hold  of  him,  and  sorrow  that  that 
had  not  happened  which  might  have  happened,  as  well  as 
immense  pity  for  her.  "Thou  hast  become  a  poodle  again, 
old  fellow,"  said  he  to  himself,  "and  it  serves  thee  right! 
A  good  man  would  have  felt  sorrow,  but  thou  didst  begin 
to  be  angry  and  condemn  her  for  loving  a  fool  and  pretend- 
ing to  aspiration,  and  for  having  a  lew  nature;  thou  didst 
talk  ill  of  her  before  Pani  Polanyetski  and  before  him; 
didst  do  injustice  to  a  kind  and  unfortunate  person,  not  be- 
cause her  refusal  pained  thee  too  greatly,  but  through 
thy  own  self-love.     Served  thee  right,  right !  thou  art  an 


586  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

ass ;  thou  art  not  worthy  of  her;  and  thou  wilt  be  knocking 
around  alone  till  death,  like  a  mandrill,  behind  a  menagerie 
grating." 

In  these  reproaches  there  was  a  portion  of  truth.  Svirski 
had  not  fallen  in  love  decidedly  with  Panna  Ratkovski ;  but 
her  refusal  pained  him  more  deeply  than  he  acknowledged, 
and,  not  being  able  to  master  his  vexation,  he  gave  way  to 
general  conclusions  about  women,  citing  Panna  Ratkovski 
as  an  example,  and  to  her  disadvantage. 

Now  he  saw  the  whole  vanity  of  such  conclusions. 
"  These  stupid  syntheses  have  ruined  me  always,'"  thought 
he.  "  Women  are  individuals  like  all  people ;  and  the 
general  concept  woman  explains  nothing  whatever.  There 
is  a  Panna  Castelli,  there  is  a  Pani  Osnovski,  in  whom  1 
admit  various  rascalities,  without,  however,  having  proof  of 
them ;  but  on  the  other  hand  there  is  a  Pani  Polanyetski,  a 
Pani  Bigiel,  a  Sister  Aniela,  a  Panna  Helena,  and  a  Panna 
Stefania.  Poor  child !  and  so  it  serves  me  right.  She 
was  there  suffering  in  silence,  and  I  was  gnashing  my  teeth. 
If  that  girl  isn't  worth  ten  times  more  than  I,  then  that 
sun  is  n't  worth  my  pipe.  She  had  a  sacred  reason  in  giv- 
ing a  refusal  to  such  a  buffalo.  I  will  go  to  the  Orient, 
and  that  is  the  end  of  the  matter.  Such  light  as  there  is  in 
Egypt,  there  is  nowhere  else  on  earth.  And  what  an  honest 
woman !  Moreover,  she  has  done  me  good,  even  with  her 
refusal,  for  through  her  I  have  convinced  myself  that  my 
theory  about  women  should  be  broken  on  the  back  of  a  dog. 
But  if  Panna  Helena  puts  a  whole  regiment  of  dragoons  be- 
fore her  door,  I  must  see  that  poor  girl  and  say  what  I 
think  to  her." 

In  fact,  he  went  on  the  following  morning  to  Panna  Hel- 
ena's. They  did  not  wish  to  admit  him,  but  he  insisted  so 
much  that  at  last  he  was  admitted.  Panna  Helena,  judg- 
ing that  friendship  and  anxiety  alone  had  brought  him, 
conducted  him  even  to  the  chamber  in  which  the  wounded 
man  was  lying.  There,  in  the  gloom  of  fastened  blinds,  he 
saw  Pan  Ignas,  from  whom  came  the  odor  of  iodine,  his 
head  bound,  his  jaw  protruding;  and  with  him  those  two 
wearied  out  women,  the  fever  of  sleeplessness  on  their 
faces,  and  really  like  two  shadows.  The  wounded  man  lay 
with  open  lips ;  he  was  changed,  and  resembled  himself  in 
nothing.  He  was  as  if  incomparably  older;  his  eyelids 
were  swollen,  and  protruding  from  under  the  bandage. 
Svirski  had  liked  him  greatly,  and  with  his  sensitiveness 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  587 

had  not  less  sympathy  for  him  than  had  Pan  Stanislav  and 
Osnovski ;  he  was  struck,  however,  this  time  by  his  de- 
formity. "He  has  fixed  himself,"  thought  he;  then,  turn- 
ing  to  Panna  Helena,  he  asked  in  an  undertone, 

"Has  he  not  regained  consciousness  ?" 

"No,"  answered  she,  in  a  whisper. 

*'  What  does  the  doctor  say  ?  " 

Panna  Helena  moved  her  thin  hand  in  sign  that  all  was 
uncertain  yet. 

"  This  is  the  fifth  day,"  whispered  she  again. 

"  And  the  fever  decreases,"  said  Panna  Ratkovski. 

Svirski  wished  to  offer  his  services  in  watching  the  sick 
man ;  but  Panna  Helena  indicated  with  her  eyes  a  young 
doctor,  whom  he  was  not  able  to  distinguish  at  once  in  the 
darkness,  but  who,  sitting  in  an  armchair  near  the  table, 
with  a  basin  and  pile  of  iodine  wadding,  was  dozing  from 
weariness,  waiting  till  another  should  relieve  him. 

"We  have  two,"  said  Panna  Ratkovski,  "and  besides 
people  from  the  hospital,  who  know  how  to  nurse  the  sick." 

"  But  you  ladies  are  wonderfully  wearied." 

"  It  is  a  question  here  of  the  sick  man,"  answered  she, 
looking  toward  the  bed. 

Svirski  followed  her  glance.  His  eyes  were  better 
accustomed  now  to  the  gloom,  and  saw  distinctly  the  face, 
motionless,  with  lips  almost  black.  The  long  body  was 
motionless  also,  only  the  fingers  of  his  emaciated  hand, 
lying  on  the  coverlet,  stirred  with  a  monotonous  move- 
ment, as  if  scratching. 

"  They  will  take  him  out  in  a  couple  of  days,  as  God  is 
in  Heaven  ! "  thought  he,  remembering  his  colleague,  that 
"  Slav  "  with  whom  Bukatski  had  disputed  in  his  time,  and 
who,  when  lie  had  shot  himself  in  the  head,  died  only  after 
two  weeks  of  torture. 

Wishing,  however,  to  give  comfort  to  the  women,  he 
said,  in  spite  of  that  of  wliich  he  was  certain,  — 

"  Wounds  of  this  kind  are  either  mortal  at  once,  or  are 
cured." 

Panna  Helena  made  no  answer,  but  her  face  contracted 
nervously,  and  her  lips  grew  pale.  Evidently  there  was  a 
terrible  thought  in  her  soul,  that  he  also  might  die,  and  she 
did  not  wish  to  admit  that  she  had  had  enough  with  that 
other  suicide,  and  at  the  same  time  it  was  for  her  a  ques- 
tion of  something  more  than  saving  his  life  for  Pan  Ignas. 

Svirski    be^^an   to   take    farewell.     He  entered   with  a 


588  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

speech  prepared  for  Paiina  Eatkovski,  to  whom  he  had 
resolved  to  acknowledge  that  he  had  judged  her  unjustly, 
and  to  express  all  the  homage  which  he  felt  for  her,  and  to 
beg  for  her  friendship  ;  but  in  presence  of  the  real  tragedy 
of  those  two  women,  and  of  the  danger  of  death,  and  of 
that  half  corpse,  he  saw  at  once  that  everything  which  he 
intended  to  say  would  be  poor  and  petty,  and  that  it  was 
not  the  time  for  such  empty  and  personal  matters. 

He  merely  pressed  to  his  lips  in  silence  the  hand  of 
Panna  Helena,  and  then  that  of  Panna  Ratkovski;  and, 
going  out  of  that  room  filled  with  misfortune  and  per- 
meated with  iodine,  he  drew  a  deep  breath.  In  his  artistic 
imagination  was  represented  distinctly  the  changed  Pan 
Ignas,  ten  years  older,  with  bound  head  and  black  lips. 
And  in  spite  of  all  the  sympathy  which  he  had  for  the  man, 
indignation  seized  him  all  at  once. 

"He  made  a  hole  in  his  skull,"  muttered  he;  "he  made 
a  hole  in  his  talent,  —  and  does  n't  care !  and  those  souls 
there  are  dragging  themselves  to  death  and  trembling  like 
leaves." 

Then  a  feeling,  as  it  were  of  jealousy,  took  hold  of  him, 
as  if  he  were  sorry,  for  himself,  and  he  began  to  speak  in  a 
monologue,  — 

"  Well,  old  man  !  but  if  thou,  for  example,  were  to  pack 
a  bit  of  lead  into  thy  talent,  no  one  would  walk  at  thy  bed- 
side on  tiptoe." 

Further  meditation  was  interrupted  by  Pan  Plavitski, 
who,  meeting  him  at  the  cross-street,  stopped  him,  and 
began  conversation,  — 

"I  am  just  from  Karlsbad,"  said  he.  "0  Lord,  how 
many  elegant  women  !  1  am  going  to  Buchynek  to-day.  I 
have  just  seen  Stanislav,  and  know  that  my  daughter  is 
well ;  but  he  has  grown  thin  somehow." 

"  Yes  for  he  has  had  trouble.  Have  you  heard  of  Pan 
Ignas  ?  " 

"  I  have,  I  have !     But  what  will  you  say  of  that  ?  " 

"  A  misfortune." 

"A  misfortune  ;  but  this  too,  that  there  are  no  principles 
at  present.  All  those  new  ideas,  those  atheisms  of  yours, 
and  hypnotisms,  and  socialisms.  The  young  generation 
have  no  principles,  —  that  is  where  the  trouble  lies." 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  589 


CHAPTER  LIX. 

Pax  Stanislav,  under  the  impression  of  the  catastrophe, 
forgot  utterly  his  promise  to  inform  Osnovski  by  letter 
how  Pan  Iguas  had  borne  the  rupture  of  the  marriage  and 
the  departure  of  Lineta.  But  Osnovski,  having  learned 
from  the  newspapers  what  had  happened,  inquired  every 
day  by  telegraph  about  the  condition  of  the  patient,  and 
was  greatly  alarmed.  In  the  press  and  in  public  the  most 
contradictory  accounts  were  current.  Some  journals  de- 
clared that  his  condition  was  hopeless ;  others  predicted  a 
speedy  recovery.  For  a  long  time  Pan  Stanislav  could 
report  nothing  certain ;  and  only  after  two  weeks  did  he 
send  a  despatch  that  the  sick  man  had  ceased  to  waver 
between  death  and  life,  and  that  the  doctors  guaranteed 
his  recovery. 

Osnovski  answered  with  a  long  letter,  in  which  he  gave 
various  news  from  Ostend, — 

"  God  reward  you  for  good  news !  All  danger  has  passed  then 
decisively?  I  cannot  tell  you  what  a  weig^ht  fell  from  the  hearts  of 
both  of  us.  Tell  Pan  Ignas  that  not  only  I,  but  my  wife  received 
the  news  of  his  recovery  with  tears.  She  does  not  speak  of  any  one 
else  now,  and  tliinks  only  of  him.  Oh,  what  women  are  I  volumes 
might  be  written  on  tliis  subject ;  but  Anetka  is  an  exception,  and 
will  you  believe,  that  in  spite  of  all  her  terror  and  sorrow  and  sym- 
pathy, Ignas  has  increased  in  her  eyes  through  this  unhapj)y  event? 
They  seek  romantic  sides  always  ;  so  far  does  this  reach  that  even  in 
Kopovski,  as  the  originator  of  tlie  misfortune,  Anetka,  who  knows  all 
his  stupidity,  sees  now  somethins:  demonic.  But  beyond  ail  she 
praises  God  for  the  recovery  of  Ignas.  May  he  live  to  the  glory  of 
our  societv,  and  niav  he  find  a  being  worthy  of  him  I  From  vour 
despatch,  I  infer  that  he  is  under  tiie  care  of  Panna  Helena.  May 
God  grant  her  too  every  blessing  for  such  an  honest  heart!  Really 
she  has  no  one  in  the  world  nearer  to  her  than  Ignas,  and  I  imagine 
that  he  is  still  dearer  to  her  through  remembrance  of  Ploshovski. 

"  Now,  since  vou  have  quieted  me  as  to  Io;nas's  recovery,  I  can  send 
you  some  news  about  Aunt  Bronich  and  Lineta.  Perhaps  you  have 
heard  that  thev  are  here  with  Kopovski.  They  went  first  to 
Schevenincren  ;  but,  hearing  that  the  small-pox  was  there,  they 
escaped  to  Ostend,  not  supposing  that  we  were  here.  VVe.  met  a 
number  of  times  in  the  Cnr.-^aal,  but  pretended  not  to  know  thorn. 
Kopovski  even  left  cards  with  us ;  but  we  did  not  return  his  visit, 


590  CHILDREN  OF  THE   SOIL. 

though,  as  my  wife  says  justly,  he  is  far  less  to  blame  in  all  this  than 
the  two  women.  When  I  received  your  despatch,  stating  that  Ignas 
is  saved  surely,  I  thought  that  humanity  itself  commanded  me  to 
send  the  news  to  them,  and  I  did  so.  As  matters  stand,  life  is  un- 
pleasant for  them  here,  since  their  acquaintances  withdraw;  so  I 
wished  them  to  know  at  least  that  they  have  no  human  life  on 
their  consciences,  all  the  more  since  Lineta,  as  it  would  seem,  felt  the 
deed  of  Ignas.  In  fact,  they  called  the  same  day  on  us,  and  my  wife 
received  them.  She  says  truly  that  evil  is  moral  sickness,  and  that 
we  should  not  desert  relatives  in  sickness.  In  general,  this  first 
meeting  was  awkward  and  painful  for  both  sides.  Of  Ignas  we  said 
not  a  word.  Kopovski  appears  here  as  Lineta's  betrothed;  but 
they  do  not  seem  very  happy,  though,  to  tell  the  truth,  she  is  better 
fitted  for  him  than  for  Ignas,  and  in  that  view  at  least  what  has  hap- 
pened may  be  considered  God's  work.  I  know  also  from  persons 
aside  that  Aunt  Bronich  mentions  it  as  such.  I  need  not  tell 
you  how  that  abuse  of  the  name  of  God  angers  me.  I  know  that 
she  tried  to  talk  into  some  acquaintances  stopping  here  that  she 
and  her  niece  broke  with  Ignas  because  of  his  want  of  religious  feel- 
ings; to  others  she  told  tales  of  his  despotism  and  of  his  disagreement 
in  temper  with  Lineta.  In  all  this  she  deceives  not  only  the  world, 
but  herself.  Aunt,  through  persuading  herself  and  others  of  it  un- 
ceasingly, believes  at  last  in  the  lofty  character  of  Lineta,  and  in 
this  too  she  is  immensely  disappointed.  She  feels  bound  really 
to  defend  her;  she  invents  God  knows  what  in  her  behalf,  and 
struggles  like  a  mad  woman  ;  but  a  feeling  of  disappointment  sticks 
in  her,  and  I  think  that  she  grieves  over  it,  for  she  has  grown  very 
thin.  Evidently  they  value  relations  with  us,  which,  as  they  hope, 
may  bring  them  back  to  society ;  but  though  my  wife  received  them, 
our  relations  cannot  return  to  their  former  condition,  of  course.  I, 
first  of  all,  could  not  permit  this,  from  regard  to  my  duty  of  choosing 
a  proper  society  for  my  wife.  Lineta's  marriage  with  Kopovski  is 
to  be  in  Paris  two  months  from  now.  Of  course  we  shall  not  be 
present.  Moreover,  my  wife  looks  on  the  marriage  very  skeptically. 
I  have  written  thus  at  length  hoping  to  oblige  you  to  write  as  much, 
with  all  details  about  Ignas.  If  his  health  permits,  press  his  hand 
for  me,  and  tell  him  that  he  has  and  will  have  in  me  a  most  cor- 
dial friend,  who  is  devoted  heart  and  soul  to  him." 

Marynia,  notwithstanding  the  lateness  of  the  season,  was 
living  yet  in  Buchynek;  so  that  Pan  Stanislav,  when  he 
received  this  letter  in  the  counting-house,  showed  it  first 
of  all  to  the  Bigiels,  Avith  whom  he  dined. 

"I  am  glad  of  one  thing,"  said  Pani  Bigiel,  when  she 
had  finished  the  letter;  "she  will  marry  that  Kopovski 
right  away.  Otherwise  I  should  be  afraid  that  something 
might  spring  up  again  in  Ignas,  and  that  after  he  had 
recovered  he  might  be  ready  to  return  to  her." 

"No;  Pan  Ignas  has  much  character,  and  I  think  that 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  591 

Bigiel  was  so  accustomed  to  ask  the  opinion  of  his  part- 
ner in  every  question,  that  he  could  not  get  on  without  it 
m  this  one. 

"I  think  that  thej^,  when  they  look  around  on  what  they 
have  done,  will  be  rather  ready  to  return.  As  to  Ignas,  I 
have  lived  so  many  years,  and  seen  so  many  improbable 
things,  that  I  will  not  answer  for  any  one." 
^  At  that  moment  these  words  occurred  again  to  Pan 
Stanislav :  "  I  know  what  she  is,  but  I  cannot  tear  my  soul 
from  her." 

" But  wouldst  thou  return  in  his  place?"  inquired  Bigiel. 

"I  think  not;  but  I  will  not  answer  for  myself  even. 
First  of  all,  I  shouldn't  have  shot  myself  in  the  forehead; 
but  still,  I  don't  know  even  that." 

And  he  said  this  with  great  discouragement,  for  he 
thought  that  if  there  was  any  man  who  had  no  right  to 
answer  for  himself  it  was  he. 

But  Pani  Bigiel  began,  — 

"I  would  give  I  do  not  know  what  to  see  Ignas;  bnt 
really  it  is  easier  to  take  a  fortress  than  to  go  to  him. 
And  I  cannot  understand  why  Panna  Helena  keeps  him 
from  people  so,  even  from  such  friends  as  we  are." 

"She  keeps  him  from  people  because  the  doctor  hns 
ordered  absolute  quiet.  Besides,  since  he  has  regained 
consciousness,  the  sight  of  his  nearest  friends,  even,  is  ter- 
ribly painful  to  him;  and  this  we  can  understand.  He 
cannot  talk  with  them  about  his  deed;  and  he  sees  that 
every  one  who  approaches  him  is  thinking  of  nothing  else." 

"  But  you  are  there  every  day. " 

"They  admit  me  because  I  was  connected  with  the  affair 
from  the  beginning;  I  was  the  first  to  report  the  rupture 
of  the  marriage,  and  I  w^atched  him." 

"Does  he  mention  that  girl  yet?" 

"I  asked  Panna  Helena  and  Panna  Ratkovski  about  this; 
they  answered.  'Never. '  I  have  sat  for  hours  with  him  alone, 
and  have  heard  nothing.  It  is  wonderful:  he  is  conscious; 
he  knows  that  he  is  wounded,  knows  that  he  is  sick;  but 
he  seems  at  the  same  time  to  remember  nothing  of  past 
events,  just  as  if  the  past  hatl  no  existence  whatever.  The 
doctors  say  that  wounds  in  the  head  cause  various  and 
very  peculiar  phenomena  of  this  kind.  For  the  rest,  he 
recognizes  every  one  who  approaches  him,  exhibits  immense 


592  CHILDREN   OF   THE   SOIL. 

gratitude  to  Panna  Helena  and  Panna  Eatkovski.  He 
loves  Panna  Katkovski  especially,  and  evidently  yearns 
for  her  when  she  goes  for  a  while  from  him.  But  they 
are  both,  as  God  lives! — there  are  no  words  to  tell  how 
good  they  are." 

"Panna  Ratkovski  moves  me  especially,"  said  Pani 
Bigiel. 

Bigiel  put  in,  "  Meditating  over  everything  carefully,  1 
have  come  to  the  conclusion  that  she  must  have  fallen  in 
love  with  him." 

"Thou  hast  spent  time  for  nothing  in  meditating," 
answered  Pan  Stanislav,  "for  that  is  as  clear  as  the  suu. 
The  poor  thing  hid  this  feeling  in  herself  till  misfortune 
came.  Why  did  she  reject  such  an  offer  as  Svirski's?  1 
make  no  secret  of  this,  for  Svirski  himself  tells  it  on  every 
side.  It  seems  to  him  that  he  owes  her  satisfaction  because 
he  suspected  her  of  being  in  love  with  Kopovski.  When 
Pan  Ignas  shot  himself,  she  was  living  with  her  relative, 
Pani  Melnitski,  after  the  Osnovskis  had  gone;  but  when 
she  learned  that  Panna  Helena  had  taken  Ignas,  she  went 
and  begged  permission  to  remain  with  her.  All  know 
perfectly  how  to  understand  this;  but  she  does  not  mind 
such  considerations,  just  as  Panna  Helena  herself  does 
not  mind  them." 

Here  Pan  Stanislav  turned  to  Pani  Bigiel,  — 

"Panna  Ratkovski  moves  you  deeply;  but  think,  as  God 
lives,  what  a  tragic  ligure  Panna  Helena  is.  Pan  Ignas  is 
alive,  at  least,  but  Ploshovski  aimed  better;  and,  accord- 
ing to  her  ideas,  there  is  no  mercy  for  him,  even  in  that 
world.  But  she  loves  him.  There  is  a  position !  Finally, 
after  such  a  suicide,  comes  another;  it  tears  open  all 
wounds,  freshens  every  memory.  Panna  Ratkovski  may 
be  a  touching  figure;  but  the  other  has  her  life  broken 
forever,  and  no  hope,  nothing  left  but  despair." 

"  True,  true !  But  she  must  be  attached  to  Ignas,  since 
she  cares  for  him  so." 

"I  understand  why  she  does  it;  she  wants  to  beg  of  the 
Lord  God  mercy  for  the  other  man,  because  she  has  saved 
Pan  Ignas." 

"That  may  be,"  said  Bigiel.  "And  who  knows  that  Pan 
Ignas  may  not  marry  Panna  Ratkovski,  when  he  recovers?" 

"If  he  forgets  that  other,  if  he  is  not  broken,  and  if  he 
recovers." 

"  How,  if  he  recovers?  Just  now  thou  hast  said  that  his 
recovery  is  undoubted." 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  693 

"It  is  undoubted  that  he  will  live;  but  the  question  is, 
will  he  be  the  former  Ignas?  Even  though  he  had  not  tired 
into  his  head,  it  would  be  difficult  to  say  whether  such  aa 
experience  would  not  break  a  man  who  is  so  sensitive. 
But  add  a  broken  head;  that  must  be  paid  for.  Who 
knows  what  will  happen  further?  but  now,  for  example, 
though  he  is  conscious,  though  he  talks  with  sense,  at 
times  he  breaks  off,  and  cannot  recollect  the  simplest 
expression.  Before,  he  never  hesitated.  This,  too,  is 
strange,  —  he  remembers  the  names  of  things  well,  but 
when  it  is  a  question  of  any  act,  he  stops  most  generally, 
and  either  remembers  with  effort,  or  forgets  altogether." 

"What  does  the  doctor  say?" 

"In  God  is  his  hope  that  it  will  pass;  the  doctor  does 
not  lose  hope.  But  even  yesterday,  while  I  was  going  in, 
Ignas  said,  'Pani  — '  and  stopped.  Evidently  he  was 
thinking  of  Marynia,  whom  he  recalled  on  a  sudden,  but 
he  could  not  ask  about  her.  Every  day  he  talks  more,  it 
is  true ;  but  before  he  recovers,  much  time  may  pass,  and 
certain  traces  ma)"^  remain  forever." 

"  But  does  Marynia  know  of  everything?  " 

"While  there  was  no  certainty  that  he  would  live,  1 
kept  everything  in  secret;  but  after  that  1  thought  it  better 
to  tell  her.  Of  course  I  was  very  cautious.  It  was  hard 
to  keep  the  whole  matter  from  her  longer.  People  were 
talking  too  much  about  it,  and  I  feared  that  she  might 
hear  from  people  on  one  side.  I  told  her,  moreover,  that 
the  wound  was  slight,  and  that  nothing  threatened  him, 
but  that  the  doctors  forbade  him  visitors.  Even  thus  she 
was  greatly  affected." 

"When  will  you  bring  her  to  the  city?" 

"  While  the  weather  is  good,  I  prefer  to  keep  her  in  the 
country." 

Further  conversation  was  interrupted  by  a  letter,  which 
the  servant  gave  Pan  Stanislav.  The  letter  was  from 
Mashko,  and  contained  the  following  words:  — 

«  I  wish  to  see  thee  in  thy  own  interest.  I  will  wait  for  thee  at 
my  house  till  five." 

"I   am   curious  to   know  what   he   wants,"  said  Pan 
Stanislav. 
"Who  is  it?" 

"  Mashko ;  he  wants  to  see  me." 

38 


594  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

"Business  and  business,"  said  Bigiel;  "he  has  business 
above  his  ears.  Sometimes  I  wonder  really  whence  he  gets 
endurance  and  wit  for  all  this.  Dost  thou  know  that  Pani 
Kraslavski  has  come  home,  and  that  she  has  lost  her  sight 
altogether?  She  sees  nothing  now,  or  what  is  called  noth- 
ing. We  visited  those  ladies  before  they  left  their  country 
house.  Wherever  one  turns  there  is  misery,  so  that  at  last 
pity  seizes  one  while  looking." 

"  But  in  misfortune  each  man  or  woman  shows  his  or  her 
real  nature,"  said  Pani  Bigiel.  "You  remember  that  we 
considered  Pani  Mashko  as  somewhat  dry  in  character,  but 
you  will  not  believe  how  kind  she  is  now  to  her  mother. 
She  does  not  let  a  servant  come  near  her;  she  attends  her 
herself  everywhere,  waits  on  her,  reads  to  her.  Eeally 
she  has  given  me  a  pleasant  surprise,  or  rather  both  of 
them,  for  Pani  Kraslavski  has  lost  her  former  pretentious- 
ness thoroughly.  It  is  pleasant  to  see  how  those  women 
love  each  other.  It  seems  that  there  was  something  in 
Pani  Mashko  which  we  could  not  discover." 

"Both,  too,  were  terribly  indignant  at  the  behavior  of 
Panna  Castelli,"  added  Bigiel.  "Pani  Kraslavski  said  to 
us,  '  If  my  Terka  had  acted  in  that  way,  I  should  have 
denied  her,  though  I  am  blind,  and  need  care.'  But  Pani 
Mashko  is  as  she  is,  and  she  would  n6t  have  acted  in  that 
way,  for  she  is  another  kind  of  woman." 

Pan  Stanislav  drank  his  cup  of  black  coffee,  and  began  to 
take  farewell.  For  some  time  past  every  conversation 
about  Pani  Mashko  had  become  for  the  man  unendurable; 
it  seemed  to  him,  moreover,  that  he  was  listening  again  to 
an  extract  from  that  strange  human  comedy  which  people 
were  playing  around  him,  and  in  which  he,  too,  was  plaj'- 
ing  his  empty  part.  It  did  not  occur  to  him  that  human 
nature  is  so  composed  that  even  in  the  very  worst  person 
some  good  element  may  be  found,  and  that  Pani  Mashko 
might  be,  after  all,  a  loving  daughter.  In  general,  he  pre- 
ferred not  to  think  of  that,  but  began  to  halt  over  the 
question,  what  could  Mashko  want  of  him?  Forgetting 
that  Mashko  had  written  in  the  letter  that  he  wanted  to 
see  him,  not  in  his  own,  but  in  his  (Pan  Stanislav 's)  in- 
terest, he  supposed,  with  a  certain  alarm,  that  he  wanted 
money  a  second  time. 

"But  I,"  thought  he,  "will  not  refuse  now." 

And  it  occurred  to  him  that  life  is  like  the  machinery 
of  a  watch.    When  something  is  out  of  order  in  one  wheel, 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  595 

all  begin  to  act  irregularly.  What  connection  could  there 
be  between  his  adventure  with  Pani  Mashko  and  his  busi- 
ness, his  money,  his  mercantile  work  ?  And  still  he  felt 
that  even  as  a  merchant  he  had  not,  at  least  with  refer- 
ence to  Mashko,  the  freedom  that  he  once  had. 

But  his  suppositions  proved  faulty.  Mashko  had  not 
come  to  ask  money. 

"I  looked  for  thee  in  the  counting-house,  and  at  thy 
residence,"  said  he;  "at  last  I  divined  that  thou  must  be 
at  the  Bigiels',  and  I  sent  my  letter  there.  1  wished  to 
speak  with  thee  on  thy  own  business." 

"How  can  I  serve  thee?"  asked  Pan  Stanislav. 

"  First  of  all,  I  beg  that  what  I  say  may  remain  between 
us." 

''It  will;  I  am  listening," 

Mashko  looked  for  a  time  in  silence  at  Pan  Stanislav, 
as  if  to  prepare  him  by  that  silence  for  some  important 
announcement ;  at  last  he  said,  with  a  wonderful  calmness, 
weighing  out  every  expression,  — 

"  I  wished  to  tell  thee  that  I  am  lost  beyond  redemption." 

"Hast  lost  the  will  case?" 

"No;  the  case  will  come  up  only  two  weeks  from  now 
but  I  know  that  I  shall  lose  it." 

"  Whence  hast  thou  that  certainty?" 

"Dost  remember  \vliat  I  told  thee  once,  that  cases  against 
wills  are  won  almost  always  because  the  attack  is  more 
energetic  than  the  defence;  because  usually  the  overthrow 
of  the  will  concerns  some  one  personally,  while  maintain- 
ing it  does  not?  Everything  in  the  world  may  be  attacked; 
for  though  a  thing  be  in  accordance  with  the  spirit  of  the 
law,  almost  always,  in  a  greater  degree  or  less,  it  fails  to 
satisfy  the  letter,  and  the  courts  must  hold  to  the  letter." 

"  True.     Thou  hast  said  alt  that." 

"Well,  so  it  is,  too,  in  this  case  which  T  took  up.  It 
was  not  so  adventurous  as  may  seem.  The  whole  question 
was  to  break  the  will;  and  I  should,  perhaps,  succeed  in 
proving  certain  disagreements  in  it  with  the  letter  of  the 
laAv,  were  it  not  that  there  is  a  man  striving  with  equal 
energy  to  prove  that  there  are  none  such.  I  will  not  talk 
long  about  this;  it  is  enough  for  thee  to  know  that  I  have 
to  contend  not  merely  with  an  opponent  who  is  a  lawyer  and 
a  linished  trickster,  but  a  personal  enemy,  for  whom  it  i3 
a  question,  not  only  to  win  the  case,  but  to  ruin  me.  Once 
I  slighted  him,  and  now  he  is  taking  revenge." 


596  CHILDREN  OF  THE   SOIL. 

"In  general,  I  do  not  understand  why  you  have  to  do 
with  any  one  except  the  State  Attorney." 

"  Because  there  were  legacies  to  private  people  in  defence 
of  which  the  opposite  side  employed  Sledz,  that  advocate. 
But  let  this  rest.  I  must  lose  the  case,  for  it  is  in  condi- 
tions for  being  lost;  and  if  I  were  Sledz,  I  would  win  just 
as  he  wins.  I  know  this  in  advance,  and  I  do  not  deceive 
myself.     Enough  now  of  this  whole  matter." 

"But  go  on;  appeal." 

"^o,  my  dear  friend,  I  cannot  go  on." 

"Why?" 

"  Because  I  have  more  debts  than  there  are  hairs  on  my 
head;  because,  after  my  first  defeat,  creditors  will  rush  at 
me ;  and  because "  —  here  Mashko  lowered  his  voice  —  "I 
must  flee." 

Silence  followed. 

Mashko  rested  his  elbow  on  his  knee,  his  head  on  his 
palm,  and  sat  some  time  with  his  head  inclined;  but  after 
a  while  he  began  to  speak,  as  if  to  himself,  without  raising 
his  head,  — 

"It  is  broken.  I  tied  knots  desperately,  till  my  hands 
were  wearied;  strength  would  have  failed  any  man,  still  I 
kept  knotting.  But  I  cannot  knot  any  longer!  God  sees 
that  I  have  no  more  strength  left.  Everything  must  have 
its  end;  and  let  this  finish  sometime." 

Here  he  drew  breath,  like  a  man  who  is  terribly  tired; 
then  he  raised  his  head,  and  said,  — 

"This,  however,  is  my  affair  merely,  and  I  have  come 
to  talk  of  thy  affairs.  Listen  to  me !  According  to  con- 
tract concluded  at  the  sale  of  Kremen,  I  was  to  make  pay- 
ments to  thy  wife  after  the  parcelling  of  Magyerovka;  thou 
hast  a  few  thousand  rubles  of  thy  own  money  with  me.  I 
was- to  pay  thy  father-in-law  a  life  annuity.  Now  I  come 
to  tell  thee  that  if  not  in  a  week,  then  in  two,  I  shall  go 
abroad  as  a  bankrupt,  and  thou  and  they  will  not  see  a 
copper." 

Mashko,  while  telling  all  this  with  the  complete  bold- 
ness and  insolence  of  a  man  who  no  longer  has  anything  to 
lose,  looked  Pan  Stanislav  in  the  eyes,  as  if  seeking  for  a 
storm. 

But  he  was  deceived  most  thoroughly.  Pan  Stanislav's 
face  grew  dark  for  one  twinkle  of  an  eye,  it  is  true,  as  if 
from  suppressed  anger;  but  he  calmed  himself  quickly,  and 
said,  — 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  697 


"I  have  always  expected  that  this  would  end  so." 

Mashko,  who,  knowing  with  whom  he  had  to  deal,  sup- 
posed that  Pan  Stanislav  would  seize  him  by  the  shoul-der, 
looked  at  him  with  amazement,  as  if  wishing  to  ask  what 
had  happened. 

But  at  that  moment  Pan  Stanislav  thought,  — 

"If  he  had  wanted  to  borrow  money  for  the  road,  I 
could  not  have  refused  him." 

But  aloud  he  said,  "Yes;  this  was  to  be  foreseen. 

"No,"  answered  Mashko,  with  the  stubbornness  of  a 
man  who  will  not  part  with  the  thought  that  only  a  con- 
currence of  exceptional  circumstances  is  to  blame  for  every- 
thing  "Thou  hast  no  right  to  say  this.  The  moment 
before  death,  I  should  be  ready  to  repeat  that  it  might 
have  gone  otherwise." 

But  Pan    Stanislav   inquired,  as   if  with  a  shade    ot 

impatience,  —  _     „  -now 

"My  dear,  what  dost  thou  want  of  me  specially .'' 
Mashko  recovered,  and  answered,  — 
"Nothing.  I  have  come  to  thee  only  as  to  a  man  whc 
has  shown  me  good-will  at  all  times,  and  with  whom  . 
have  contracted 'a  money  debt,  as  well  as  a  debt  ot  grati^ 
tude-  I  have  come  to  confess  openly  how  things  stand,  and 
also  to  say  to  thee:  save  what  is  possible,  and  as  much  a^ 

^Tan^Stlnislav  set  his  teeth;  he  judged  that  even  in  that 
iro^nrofli^e;  whose  chattering  ^e  heard  round  a^^^^^^^^^^^ 

continually  for  -^.^^^^^t 's  words^^^^^^^^ 

measure.      Meanwhile   Masliko  s  wu  passing 

and  a  debt  of  gratitude  seemed  to  him  as  ^^^^^^^^ 

that  measure.     "May  the  df v  Is  take  the  mone.y  ^^^ 

-if  thou  would  on  y  f  '    ^^^-/.^^^^^^^  tMs  'audibly,  he 
compressing  in  himselt  tne  wi&u 

said, — 

"  I  see  no  way.  ,  Mashko.     "  While  it 

"There  is  only  one  ^^j/' answ^re^^ ^^^^^^^^^ 

is  still  unknown  to  peop^e  that  I  mu      bre     >^^^  ^^^  ^ig. 

are  connected  with  the  ^l"  ^^^'^^g^fchance  to  sell  thy 
nature  mean  something,   thou  hast  a  c  ^^^^  .^  ^ 

wife's  claim.    Thou  wilt  say  to  th^  P^rc^^    something  of 
■     thy  wish  to  capitalize  the  whole  Fope^^^     ^.^^  be  found 
thitsort.    Appearances  are  easy.    A  P^^jc.^  ^^duc- 
always,  especially  if  ^^^,«^^„^^^^^^^^^  I  prefer  that 

tion.     In  view  of  profit,  anj  dew  w  j 


598  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL, 

any  other  should  lose  rather  than  thou;  it  is  permitted  thee 
not  to  hear  what  I  have  told  thee  of  my  coming  bank- 
ruptcy, and  it  is  permitted  thee  to  hope  that  I  shall  win 
the  case.  Thou  canst  be  sure  that  he  who  will  buy  the 
claim  of  thee,  would  sell  it  to  thee,  even  though  he  knew 
that  it  would  not  be  worth  a  broken  copper  ou  the  mor- 
row. The  world  is  an  exchange ;  and  on  the  exchange 
most  business  is  transacted  on  this  basis.  This  is  called 
cleverness." 

"No,"  answered  Pan  Stanislav,  "  it  has  a  different  name. 
Thou  hast  mentioned  Jews ;  there  are  certain  kinds  of  busi- 
ness which  they  describe  with  one  word,  'schmuzig!'  I 
shall  save  my  wife's  claim  in  another  way." 

"As  may  please  thee.  I,  my  dear  friend,  know  the 
value  of  my  system;  but,  seest  thou,  in  spite  of  all,  I  said  to 
myself  that  I  ought  to  tell  thee  this.  It  is  perhaps  the  honor 
of  a  bankrupt ;  but  now  I  cannot  have  another.  It  is  easy 
for  thee  to  divine  how  hard  it  is  for  me  to  say  this. 
For  that  matter,  I  knew  in  advance  that  thou  wouldst 
refuse ;  hence  with  me  it  was  a  question  only  of  doing  my 
own.  And  now  give  me  a  cup  of  tea  and  a  glass  of  cognac, 
for  I  am  barely  living." 

Pan  Stanislav  rang  for  the  tea  and  the  cognac. 

Mashko  continued, — 

"I  must  pluck  a  certain  number  of  people,  — there  is  no 
nelp  for  that ;  hence  I  prefer  to  pluck  indifferent  ones 
rather  than  those  who  have  rendered  me  service.  There 
are  positions  in  which  a  man  must  be  an  opportunist  with 
his  own  conscience." 

Here  Mashko  laughed  with  bitterness. 

"I  did  not  know  of  that  myself,"  continued  he ;  "but 
now  new  horizons  open  themselves  before  me.  One  is 
learning  till  death.  We  bankrupts  have  a  certain  point 
of  honor  too.  As  to  me,  I  care  less  for  those  who  would 
have  plucked  me  in  a  given  case  than  those  who  are  near 
me,  and  to  whom  I  owe  gratitude.  This  may  be  the  moral- 
ity of  Rinaldini,  but  morality  of  its  own  kind." 

The  servant  brought  in  tea  now.  Mashko,  needing  to 
strengthen  himself  evidently,  added  to  his  cup  an  overflow- 
ing glass  of  cognac,  and,  cooling  the  hot  tea  in  that  way, 
drank  it  at  a  gulp. 

"My  dear  friend,"  said  Pan  Stanislav,  "thou  knowest 
the  position  better  than  I.  All  that  I  could  say  against 
flight,  and  in  favor  of  remaining  and  coming  to  terms  with 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  699 

creditors,  thou  hast  said  to  thyself  of  course,  therefore  I  pre- 
fer to  ask  of  something  else :  Hast  thou  something  to  grasp 
with  thy  hand  ?    Hast  thou  even  money  for  the  road  ?  " 

<'  I  have.  Whether  a  man  fails  for  a  hundred  thousand, 
or  a  hundred  and  ten  thousand,  is  all  one ;  but  I  thank  thee 
for  the  question."  ,  r  i.  a 

Here  Mashko  added  cognac  to  a  second  cup  of  tea,  ana 

"  bo  not  think  that  I  am  beginning  to  drink  from 
despair;  I  have  not  sat  down  since  morning,  and  I  am 
terribly  tired.  Ah,  how  much  good  this  has  done  me  ! 
I  will  say  now  to  thee  openly  that  I  have  not  thrown  up 
the  game.  Thou  seest  that  I  have  not  fired  into  my  fore- 
head. That  is  a  melodrama!  that  is  played  out  I  know, 
indeed,  that  everything  is  ended  for  me  here ;  but  in  this 
place  i  could  not'sail  out  anyhow.  Here  tbe^f -f  ^ -« 
too  small  simDly,  and  there  is  no  field.  Take  the  west. 
Pari' '  There  men  make  fortunes  ;  there  they  take  a  somer- 
sault  and  rise  again.  What  is  to  be  said  in  the  case  if  it  is 
so  r  Dost  thou\now  that  Hirsh  ^^ad  not  perhaps  three 
hundred  francs  on  leaving  this  country  ?     I  k^o^' .^  ^J^j; 

*"r„I  evidently  the  tea  and  cognac  had  begun  to  rouse 

him,  for,  clinching  his  fist,  he  added,— 

"  Thou  wilt  see !  "  „;i  Pon  Stanislav.  with 

-If  that  is  not  dreaming,"  answered  Pan  Stam^^^^^^^ 

still  greater^impatience  than  before,  "it  is  the  tuuire. 

now  what?"  «,       „  „,v,iio    "thev  will  count 

"Now,"  said  Mashko,  after  a  while,     they 

me  a  swindler.  No  one  7^1\*^"»k,^,^tLtT  have  not  taken 
falls.  I  will  tell  thee,  for  ;^«f  f '■ '1' 3,X  and  that 
from  my  wife  a  single  ^^g^ature,  a  single  ^^^  ^jy'^^^^ 

she  will  have  everything  ;^.l^f ^^f  ^'^S  she  will  remain 
T  am  going  now;  and  -f^^no  know  whether  you  have 
here  with  her  mother  ^  4°  "f  ^Ther  sight.  I  cannot 
heard  that  Pani  K^aslavski  as  lost  he  s  ^^^^  ^  ^^^^^ 
take  them  at  present,  for  I  a^    «*  ^v^n  s^  ^^^^^  ^ 

live, -in  Paris  perhaps,  P/^l^^/^^n/The/know  nothing 
that  our  separation  wil  "^^beU^^^^.-^^at  tortures  me  I" 
yet.     See  in  what  the  drama  is!     bee  wnai, 


600  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

And  Mashko  put  his  palm  on  the  top  of  his  head,  blink- 
ing at  the  same  time,  as  if  from  pain  in  his  eyes. 

"  When  wilt  thou  go  ?  "  inquired  Pan  Stanislav. 

"  I  cannot  tell.  I  will  let  thee  know.  Thou  hast  had  the 
evident  wish  to  aid  me,  and  thou  mayest,  though  not  in 
money.  People  will  avoid  my  wife  at  first ;  show  her, 
then,  a  little  attention ;  take  her  under  thy  protection. 
Is  it  agreed  ?  Thou  hast  been  really  friendly  to  me,  and 
I  know  that  thou  art  friendly  to  her." 

"  As  God  lives,  one  might  go  mad,"  thought  Pan  Stanis- 
lav ;  but  he  said  aloud,  — 

"  Agreed." 

"I  thank  thee  from  the  soul  of  my  heart;  and  I  have 
still  a  prayer.  Thou  hast  much  influence  over  those  two 
ladies.  They  will  believe  thy  words.  Defend  me  a  little 
in  the  first  moments  before  my  wife.  Explain  to  her  that 
dishonesty  is  one  thing,  and  misfortune  another.  I,  as  God 
lives,  am  not  such  a  rogue  as  people  will  consider  me. 
I  might  have  brought  mj^  wife  also  to  ruin,  but  I  have  not 
done  so.  I  might  have  obtained  from  thee  a  few  thousand 
more  rubles;  but  I  preferred  not  to  take  them.  Thou  wilt 
be  able  to  put  this  before  her,  and  she  will  believe  thee.  Is 
it  agreed  ?  " 

*•'  Agreed,"  replied  Pan  Stanislav. 

Mashko  covered  his  head  with  his  hands  once  more,  and 
said,  with  a  face  contracted  as  if  from  physical  pain,  — 

"  See  where  real  ruin  is  !     See  what  pains  the  most ! " 

After  a  while  he  began  to  take  farewell,  thanking  Pan 
Stanislav,  meanwhile,  again  for  good-will  toward  his  wife, 
and  future  care  of  her. 

Pan  Stanislav  went  out  with  him,  sat  in  a  carriage,  and 
started  for  Buchynek. 

On  the  road  he  thought  of  Mashko  and  his  fate ;  but  at 
the  same  time  he  repeated  to  himself,  "  I  too  am  a  bank- 
rupt ! " 

And  that  was  true.  Besides  this,  for  a  certain  time 
some  sort  of  general  uncoraprehended  alarm  had  tormented 
him ;  against  this  he  could  not  defend  himself.  Bound 
about  he  saw  disappointment,  catastrophes,  ruin :  and 
he  could  not  resist  the  feeling  that  all  these  were  for 
him,  too,  a  kind  of  warning  and  threat  of  the  future. 
He  proved  to  himself,  it  is  true,  that  such  fears  could  not 
be  logically  justified ;  but  none  the  less,  the  fears  did  not 
cease  to  stick  in  the  bottom  of  his  soul   somewhere,  and 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  601 

sometimes  he  said  to  himself  again,  «  Why  should  I  be  the 
one  exception?"  Then  his  heart  was  straitened  with  a 
foreboding  of  misfortune.  This  was  still  worse  than  those 
]jins  which,  without  wishing  it,  people,  even  the  most 
friendly,  drove  into  him  by  any  word,  unconsciously.  In 
general,  his  nerves  had  suffered  recently,  so  that  he  had 
become  almost  superstitious.  He  returned  daily  to  Buchy- 
uek  in  alarm,  lest  something  bad  might  have  happened  in 
the  house  during  his  absence. 

This  evening,  he  returned  later  than  usual  because  of 
Mashko's  call,  and  drove  in  about  the  time  when  real  dark- 
ness had  come.  Stepping  out  before  the  entrance  on  the 
sandy  road,  which  dulled  the  sound  of  the  carriage,  he 
saw  through  the  window  Marynia,  Pani  Emilia,  and  the 
professor  sitting  near  a  table  in  the  middle  of  the  parlor. 
Marynia  was  laying  out  patience,  and  was  evidently  ex- 
plaining the  pla}^  to  Pani  Emilia,  for  her  head  was  turned 
toward  her,  and  she  had  one  finger  on  the  cards.  At  sight 
of  her  Pan  Stanislav  thought  that  which  for  some  time 
he  had  been  repeating  mentally,  and  which  filled  him  at 
once  with  a  feeling  of  happiness,  and  with  greater  anger 
at  himself :  "  She  is  the  purest  soul  that  I  have  met  in 
life."     And  with  that  thought  he  entered  the  room. 

"  Thou  art  late  to-day,"  said  Marynia,  when  he  raised 
her  hand  to  his  lips  with  greeting;  "but  we  are  waiting  for 
thee  with  supper." 

"  Mashko  detained  me,"  answered  he.  "  What  is  to  be 
heard  here  ?  " 

"  The  same  as  ever.     All  happy." 

"  And  how  art  thou?  " 

"  As  well  as  a  fish  !  "  answered  she,  joyously,  giving  him 
her  forehead  for  a  kiss. 

Then  she  began  to  inquire  about  Pan  Ignas.  Pan 
Stanislav.  after  the  disagreeable  talk  with  Mashko,  breathed 
for  the  first  time  more  freely.  "  She  is  in  health,  and  all 
is  right,"  thought  he,  as  if  in  wonder.  And  really  he  felt 
well  in  that  bright  room,  in  that  great  peace,  among  those 
friendly  souls  and  at  the  side  of  that  person  so  good 
and  reliable.  He  felt  that  everything  was  there  which  he 
needed  for  happiness  ;  but  he  felt  that  he  had  spoiled  that 
happiness  of  his  own  will;  that  he  had  brought  into  the 
clear  atmosphere  of  his  house  the  elements  of  corruption 
and  evil,  and  that  he  was  living  under  that  roof  without  a 
right. 


602  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 


CHAPTER  LX. 

In  the  middle  of  September  such  cold  days  came  that 
the  Polanyetskis  moved  from  Buchynek  to  their  house  in 
the  city.  Pan  Stanislav,  before  the  arrival  of  his  wife, 
had  the  house  aired  and  ornamented  with  flowers.  It 
seemed  to  him,  it  is  true,  that  he  had  lost  the  right  to 
love  her,  but  he  had  lost  only  his  former  freedom  with 
reference  to  her ;  but  perhaps,  just  because  of  this,  he  be- 
came far  more  attentive  and  careful.  The  right  to  love  no 
one  gives,  and  nothing  can  take  away.  It  is  another  case 
when  a  man  has  fallen,  and  in  presence  of  a  soul  incom- 
parably more  noble  than  his  own,  feels  that  he  is  not 
worthy  to  love ;  he  loves  then  with  humility,  and  does  not 
dare  to  call  his  feeling  by  its  name.  What  Pan  Stanislav 
had  lost  really  was  his  self-confidence,  his  commanding 
ways,  and  his  former  unceremoniousness  in  his  treatment 
of  his  wife.  At  present  in  his  intercourse  with  her  he 
bore  himself  sometimes  as  if  she  were  Panna  Plavitski, 
and  he  a  suitor  not  sure  of  his  fate  yet. 

Still  that  uncertainty  of  his  had  the  aspect  of  coldness 
At  times.  Finally,  their  relation,  in  spite  of  Pan  Stanis- 
jav's  increased  care  and  efforts,  had  become  more  distant 
than  hitherto.  "  I  have  not  the  right ! "  repeated  Pan 
Stanislav,  at  every  more  lively  movement  of  his  heart. 
And  Marynia  at  last  observed  that  they  were  living  now 
somehow  differently,  but  she  interpreted  this  to  herself 
variously. 

First,  there  were  guests  in  the  house,  before  whom,  be 
what  may,  freedom  of  life  must  be  diminished ;  second, 
that  misfortune  had  happened  to  Pan  Ignas,  —  a  thing  to 
shock  "  Stas  "  and  carry  his  mind  in  another  direction  ; 
and  finally  Marynia,  accustomed  now  to  various  changes  in 
his  disposition,  had  ceased  also  to  attach  to  them  as  much 
meaning  as  formerly. 

Having  gone  through  long  hours  of  meditation  and  sad- 
ness, she  came  at  last  to  the  conviction  that  in  the  first 
period,  while  certain  inequalities  and  bends  of  character 
are  not  accommodated  into  one  common  line,  such  vari- 
ous shades  and  changes  in  the  disposition  are  inevitable, 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  603 

though  transient.  The  sober  judgment  of  Pani  Bigiel 
lielped  her  also  to  the  discovery  of  this  truth ;  she,  on  a 
time  when  Marynia  began  to  praise  her  perfect  accord 
with  her  husband,  said, — 

"  Ai !  it  did  n't  come  to  that  at  once.  At  first  we  loved 
each  other  as  it  were  more  passionately,  but  we  were  far  less 
fitted  for  each  other ;  sometimes  one  'pulled  in  one  and  the 
other  in  another  direction.  But  because  we  both  had  hon- 
esty and  good-will  the  Lord  God  saw  that  and  blessed  us. 
After  the  first  child  all  went  at  once  in  the  best  way ;  and 
this  day  I  would  n't  give  my  old  husband  for  all  the  treas- 
ures of  earth,  though  he  is  growing  heavy,  and  when  I  per- 
suade him  to  Karlsbad  he  will  not  listen  to  me." 

"After  the  first  child,"  inquired  Marynia,  with  great 
attention.  "  Ah!  I  would  have  guessed  at  once  that  it  was 
after  the  first  child." 

Pani  Bigiel  began  to  laugh. 

"  And  how  amusing  he  was  when  our  first  boy  was  born ! 
During  the  first  days  he  said  nothing  at  all ;  he  would  only 
raise  his  spectacles  to  his  forehead  and  look  at  liim,  as  at 
some  wonder  from  beyond  the  sea,  and  then  come  to  me 
and  kiss  my  hands." 

The  hope  of  a  child  was  also  a  reason  why  Marynia  did 
not  take  this  new  change  in  "  Stas "  to  heart  too  much. 
"First,  she  promised  herself  to  enchant  him  completely  both 
with  the  child,  which  she  knew  in  advance  would  be  simply 
phenomenal,  and  with  her  own  beauty  after  sickness ;  and 
second,  she  judged  that  it  was  not  permitted  her  to  think 
of  herself  now,  or  even  exclusively  of  "  Stas."  She  was 
occupied  in  preparing  a  place  for  the  coming  guest,  as  well 
in  the  house,  as  in  her  affections.  She  felt  that  she  must 
infold  such  a  figure  not  only  in  swaddling  clothes,  but  in 
love.  Hence  she  accumulated  necessary  supplies.  She 
said  to  herself  at  once  that  life  for  two  living  together 
might  be  changeable ;  but  for  three  living  together  it  could 
not  be  anything  but  happiness  and  the  accomplishment 
of  that  expected  grace  and  mercy  of  God. 

In  general,  she  looked  at  the  future  with  uncommon 
cheerfulness.  If,  finally,  Pan  Stanislav  was  for  her  in  some 
way  a  different  person,  more  ceremonious,  as  it  were,  and 
more  distant,  he  showed  such  delicacy  as  he  had  never 
shown  before.  The  care  and  anxiety  which  she  saw  on  his 
face  she  referred  to  his  feeling  for  Pan  Ignas,  for  wliose  life 
there  was  no  fear,  it  is  true,  but  whose  misfortune  she  leit 


604  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOH.. 

with  a  woman's  heart,  understanding  that  it  might  continue 
as  long  as  his  life  lasted.  The  knowledge  of  this  gave 
more  than  one  moment  of  sadness  to  her,  and  to  the 
Bigiels,  and  to  all  to  whom  Pan  Ignas  had  become  near. 

Moreover,  soon  after  the  arrival  of  the  Polanyetskis  in  the 
city,  news  came  all  at  once  from  Ostend  which  threatened 
new  complications.  A  certain  morning  Svirski  burst  into 
the  counting-house  like  a  bomb,  and,  taking  Bigiel  and 
Pan  Stanislav  to  a  separate  room,  said,  with  a  mien  of 
mysteriousness,  — 

"  Do  you  know  what  has  happened  ?  Kresovski  has  just 
been  at  my  studio,  and  he  returned  yesterday  from  Ostend. 
Osnovski  has  separated  from  his  wife,  and  broken  Kopovski's 
bones  for  him.  A  fabulous  scandal !  All  Ostend  is  talk- 
ing of  nothing  else." 

Both  were  silent  under  the  impression  of  the  news ;  at 
last  Pan  Stanislav  said,  — 

"  That  had  to  come  sooner  or  later.  Osnovski  was 
blind." 

"  But  I  understand  nothing,"  said  Bigiel. 

"  An  unheard  of  history  !  "  continued  Svirski.  "  Who 
could  have  supposed  anything  like  it  ?  " 

"  What  does  Kresovki  say  ?  " 

"  He  says  that  Osnovski  made  an  arrangement  one  day 
to  go  with  some  Englishmen  to  Blanckenberg  to  shoot  dol- 
phins. Meanwhile  he  was  late  at  the  railroad,  or  tramway. 
Having  an  hour's  time  before  him,  he  went  home  again  and 
found  Kopovski  in  his  house.  You  can  imagine  what  he 
must  have  seen,  since  a  man  so  mild  was  carried  away,  and 
lost  his  head  to  that  degree  that,  without  thinking  of  the 
scandal,  he  pounded  Kopovski,  so  that  Kopovski  is  in 
bed." 

"  He  was  so  much  in  love  with  his  wife  that  he  might 
have  gone  mad  even,  or  killed  her,"  said  Bigiel.  "What 
a  misfortune  for  the  man !  " 

"See  what  women  are!  "  exclaimed  Svirski. 

Pan  Stanislav  was  silent.  Bigiel,  who  was  very  sorry 
for  Osnovski,  began  to  walk  back  and  forth  in  the  room. 
At  last  he  stopped  before  Svirski,  and,  thrusting  his  hands 
into  his  pockets,  said,  — 

"But  still  I  don't  understand  anything." 

Svirski,  not  answering  directly,  said,  turning  to  Pan 
Stanislav,  "You  remember  what  I  said  of  her  in  Kome, 
when  I  was  painting  your  wife's  portrait?     Old  Zavilovski 


CHILDREN  OF  THE   SOIL.  605 

called  her  a  crested  lark.  I  understand  how  just  that  was- 
for  a  crested  lark  has  another  name,  — '  the  soiler.'  What 
a  woman!  I  knew  that  she  was  not  of  high  worth,  but  I 
did  not  suppose  that  she  could  go  so  far  —  and  with  such  a 
man  as  Kopovski !  Now  I  see  various  things  more  clearly. 
Kopovski  was  there  all  the  time,  as  if  courting  Panna 
Castelli,  then  as  if  courting  Panna  Ratkovski;  and  of 
course  he  and  the  lady  were  in  agreement,  inventing 
appearances  together.  What  a  cheery  life  the  fellow  had! 
Castelli  for  dinner,  and  Pani  Osnovski  for  dessert!  Pleasant 
for  such  a  man!  Between  those  two  women  there  must 
have  been  rivalry ;  one  vying  with  the  other  in  concessions 
to  attract  him  to  herself.  You  can  understand  that  in  such 
a  place  woman's  self-esteem  had  small  value." 

"You  are  perfectly  right,"  said  Pan  Stanislav.  "Pani 
Osnovski  was  always  most  opposed  to  the  marriage  of 
Kopovski  to  Castelli;  and  very  likely  for  that  reason  she 
was  so  eager  to  have  her  marry  Pan  Ignas.  When,  in  spite 
of  everything,  Kopovski  and  Castelli  came  to  an  agree- 
ment, she  went  to  extremes  to  keep  Kopovski  for  herself. 
Their  relation  is  an  old  story." 

"I  begin  to  understand  a  little,"  said  Bigiel;  "but  how 
sad  this  is !  " 

"  Sad?  "  said  Svirski ;  "  on  the  contrary.  It  was  cheerful 
for  Kopovski.  Still,  it  was  not.  '  The  beginning  of  evil 
is  pleasant,  but  the  end  is  bitter.'  There  is  no  reason  to 
envy  him.  Do  you  know  that  Osnovski  is  hardly  any 
weaker  than  I?  for,  through  regard  for  his  wife,  he  was 
afraid  of  growing  fat,  and  from  morning  till  evening  prac- 
tised every  kind  of  exercise?  Oh,  how  he  loved  her!  what 
a  kind  man  he  is!  and  how  sorry  I  am  for  him!  In  him 
that  woman  had  everything,  —  heart,  property,  a  dogs 
attachment,  —and  she  trampled  on  everything.  Castelli, 
at  least,  was  not  a  wife  yet." 

"And  have  they  separated  really?"  ., 

"  So  really  that  she  has  gone.  What  a  position,  when 
a  man  like  Osnovski  left  her !    In  truth,  the  case  is  a  hard 

"""But  Bigiel,  who  liked  to  take  things  on  the  practical 
side,  said,  "I  am  curious  to  know  what  she  will  do,  for  all 
the  property  is  his."  ,        ...      .  ,  .  ,  ^^ 

"If  he  has  not  killed  her  on  the  spot,  he  will  not  let  her 
die  of  hunger ,  that  is  certain ;  he  is  not  a  man  of  that  kincL 
Kresovski  told  me  that  he  remained  m  Ostend,  and  that  he 


606  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

is  going  to  challenge  Kopovski  to  a  duel.  But  Kopovski 
will  not  rise  out  of  bed  for  a  week.  There  will  be  a  duel 
when  he  recovers.  Pani  Bronich  and  Panna  Castelli  have 
gone  away,  too,  to  Paris." 

"And  the  marriage  with  Kopovski?" 

"What  do  you  wish?  In  view  of  such  open  infidelity, 
it  is  broken,  of  course.  Evil  does  not  prosper;  they,  too, 
were  left  in  the  lurch.  Ha!  let  them  hunt  abroad  for 
some  Prince  Crapulescu^  —  for  after  what  they  have  done 
to  Ignas,  no  one  in  this  country  would  take  Castelli,  save  a 
swindler,  or  an  idiot.     Pan  Ignas  will  not  return  to  her." 

"I  told  Pan  Stanislav  that,  too,"  said  Bigiel;  "but  he 
answered,  '  Who  knows?'  " 

"Ai!"  said  Svirski,  "do  you  suppose  really?" 

"I  don't  know!  I  don't  know  anything!"  answered 
Pan  Stanislav,  with  an  outburst.  "I  guarantee  nothing; 
I  guarantee  nobody;  I  don't  guarantee  myself  even." 

Svirski  looked  at  him  with  a  certain  astonishment. 

"Ha!  maybe  that  is  right,"  said  he,  after  a  while.  "If 
any  one  had  told  me  yesterday  that  the  Osnovskis  would 
ever  separate,  I  should  have  looked  on  hin  as  a  madman." 

And  he  rose  to  take  farewell;  he  v,'ac  in  a  hurry  to 
work,  but  wishing  to  hear  more  about  the  catastrophe  of 
the  Osnovskis,  had  engaged  to  dine  with  Kresovski.  Bigiel 
and  Pan  Stanislav  remained  alone. 

"  Evil  must  always  pay  the  penalty ,"  said  Bigiel,  after 
some  thought.  "But  do  you  know  what  sets  me  thinking? 
that  the  moral  level  is  lowering  among  us.  Take  such 
persons  as  Bronich,  Castelli,  Pani  Osnovski, — how  dis- 
honest they  are!  how  spoiled!  and,  in  addition,  how 
stupid!  What  a  mixture,  deuce  knows  of  what!  what 
boundless  pretensions !  and  with  those  pretensions  the 
nature  of  a  waiting-maid.  So  that  it  brings  nausea  to 
think  of  them,  does  it  not?  And  men,  such  as  Ignas  and 
Osnovski,  must  pay  for  them." 

"And  that  logic  is  not  understood ,"  answered  Pan 
Stanislav,  gloomily. 

Bigiel  began  to  walk  up  and  down  in  the  room  again, 
clicking  his  tongue  and  shaking  his  head;  all  at  once  he 
stopped  before  Pan  Stanislav  with  a  radiant  face,  and,  slap- 
ping him  on  the  shoulder,  said, — 

*  A  fancifal  Roamanian  name  formed  from  the  French  crapiile,  a 
debauchee. 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  607 

"Well,  my  old  man,  thou  and  I  can  say  to  ourselves  that 
we  drew  great  prizes  in  life's  lottery.  We  were  not  saints 
either;  but  perhaps  the  Lord  God  gave  us  luck  because  we 
have  not  undermined  other  men's  houses  like  bandits." 

Pan  Stanislav  gave  no  answer;  he  merely  made  ready  to  go. 

Conditions  had  so  arranged  themselves  lately  that  every- 
thing whieli  took  place  around  him,  and  everything  which 
he  heard,  became,  as  it  were,  a  saw,  which  was  tearing  his 
nerves.  In  addition,  he  had  the  feeling  that  that  was  not 
only  terribly  torturing  and  painful,  but  was  beginning  to 
be  riiliculous  also.  At  moments  it  came  to  his  head  to 
take  Marynia  and  hide  with  her  somewhere  in  some  tumble- 
down village,  if  only  far  away  from  that  insufferable 
comedy  of  life  which  was  growing  viler  and  viler.  But 
he  saw  that  he  could  not  do  that,  even  for  this  reason,  — 
that  Maryuia's  condition  hindered  it.  He  stopped,  how- 
ever, the  bargaining  for  Buchyuek,  which  had  been  almost 
finished,  so  as  to  find  for  himself  a  more  distant  and  less 
accessible  summer  place.  In  general,  relations  with  people 
began  to  weigh  on  him  greatly;  but  he  felt  that  he  was  in 
the  vortex,  and  could  not  get  out  of  it.  Sometimes  the 
former  man  rose  in  him,  full  of  energy  and  freshness,  and 
he  asked  himself  with  wonder,  "  What  the  devil!  why  does 
a  fault  which  thousands  of  men  commit  daily,  swell  up  in 
my  case  beyond  every  measure?"  But  the  sense  of  truth 
answered  straightway  that  as  in  medicine  there  are  no 
diseases,  only  patients,  so  in  the  moral  world  there  are  no 
offences,  only  offenders.  AVhat  one  man  bears  easily, 
another  pays  for  with  his  life;  and  he  tried  in  vain  to 
defend  himself.  For  a  man  of  principles,  for  a  man  who, 
barely  half  a  year  before,  had  married  such  a  woman  as 
Marynia,  for  a  man  whom  fatherhood  was  awaiting,  his 
offence  was  beyond  measure;  and  it  was  so  inexcusable, 
so  unheard  of,  that  at  times  he  was  amazed  that  he 'could 
have  committed  it.  Now,  while  returning  home  under  the 
impression  of  Osnovski's  misfortune,  and  turning  it  over 
in  his  head  in  every  way,  he  had  again  the  feeling  as  if  a 
part  of  the  responsibility  for  what  had  happened  weighed 
on  him.  "For  I,"  said  he  to  himself,  "am  a  shareholder 
in  that  factory  in  which  are  formed  such  relations  and  such 
women  as  Castelli  or  Pani  Osnovski."  Then  it  occurred  to 
him  that  Bigiel  was  riglit  in  saying  that  the  moral  level 
was  lowering,  and  that  the  general  state  of  mind  which 
does  not  exclude  the  possibility  of  such  acts  is  simply 


608  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

dangerous.  For  he  understood  that  all  these  deviations 
flowed  neither  from  exceptional  misfortunes,  nor  uncom- 
mon passions,  nor  over-turbulent  natures,  but  from  social 
wantonness,  and  that  the  name  of  such  deviations  is  legion. 
"See,"  thought  he,  "only  in  the  circle  of  my  acquaintances, 
Pani  Mashko,  Pani  Osnovski,  Panna  Castelli;  and  over 
against  them  whom  shall  I  place?  My  Marynia  alone." 
And  at  that  moment  it  did  not  occur  to  him  that,  besides 
Marynia,  there  were  in  his  circle  Pani  Emilia,  Pani  Bigiel, 
Panna  Helena,  and  Panna  Ratkovski.  But  Marynia  stood 
out  before  him  on  that  ground  of  corruption  and  frivolity 
so  unlike  them,  so  pure  and  reliable,  that  he  was  moved  to 
the  depth  of  his  soul  by  the  mere  thought  of  her.  "  That 
is  another  world;  that  is  another  kind,"  thought  he.  For 
a  moment  he  remembered  that  Osnovski,  too,  had  called 
his  own  wife  an  exception;  but  he  rejected  this  evil  thought 
immediately.  "Osnovski  deceived  himself,  biit  I  do  not 
deceive  myself."  And  he  felt  that  the  skepticism  which 
would  not  yield  before  Marynia  would  be  not  only  stupid, 
but  pitiable.  In  her  there  was  simply  no  place  for  evil. 
Only  swamp  birds  can  sit  in  a  swamp.  He  himself  had 
said  once  in  a  jest  to  her,  that  if  she  wore  heels,  she  would 
have  inflammation  of  the  conscience  from  remorse,  because 
she  was  deceiving  people.  And  there  was  truth  in  this 
jest;  he  saw  her  now  just  there  before  him  as  clearly  as 
one  always  segs  the  person  one  thinks  of  with  concentrated 
feeling.  He  saw  her  changed  form  and  changed  face,  in 
which  there  remained  always,  however,  that  same  shapely 
mouth,  a  little  too  wide,  and  those  same  clear  eyes;  and  he 
was  more  and  more  moved.  "  Indeed,  I  did  win  a  great  prize 
in  life's  lottery,"  thought  he;  "but  I  did  not  know  how  to 
value  it.  '  Evil  must  always  pay  the  penalty,'  said  Bigiel." 
And  Pan  Stanislav,  to  whom  a  similar  thought  had  come 
more  •than  once,  felt  now  a  superstitious  fear  before  it. 
"There is,"  thought  he,  "a certain  logic,  in  virtue  of  which 
evil  returns,  like  a  wave  hurled  from  the  shore,  so  that  evil 
must  return  to  me."  And  all  at  once  it  seemed  to  him  per- 
fectly impossible  that  he  could  possess  such  a  woman  in 
peace,  and  such  happiness.  Just  in  that  was  lacking  the 
logic  which  commands  the  return  of  the  wave  of  evil.  And 
then  what?  Marynia  may  die  at  childbirth,  for  instance. 
•Pani  Mashko,  through  revenge,  may  say  some  word  about 
him,  which  will  stick  in  Mar3'nia's  mind,  and  in  view  of 
her  condition,  will  emerge  afterwargt  in  the  form  of  a  fever. 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  609 

Kot  even  the  whole  truth  is  needed  for  that  effect.  On  the 
contrary,  Pani  Mashko  may  boast  even  that  she  resisted 
his  attempts.  "And  who  knows,"  said  Pan  Stan islav  to 
himself,  "  if  Pani  Mashko  is  not  making  a  visit  to  Marynia 
this  moment?  in  such  an  event  the  first  conversation  about 
men  —  and  a  few  jesting  words  are  sufficient." 

Thinking  thus,  he  felt  that  the  cap  was  burning  on  his 
head;  and  he  reached  hoiac  with  a  feeling  of  alarm.  At 
home  he  did  not  find  Pani  Mashko;  but  Marynia  gave  him 
a  card  from  Panna  Helena,  asking  him  to  come  after  dinner 
to  see  her. 

"I  fear  that  Ignas  is  worse,"  said  Marynia. 

"No;  I  ran  in  there  for  a  moment  in  the  morning. 
Panna  Helena  was  at  some  conference  with  the  attorney, 
Kononovich ;  but  I  saw  Panna  Ratkovski  and  Pan  Ignas. 
He  was  perfectly  well,  and  spoke  to  me  joyously." 

At  dinner  Pan  Stanislav  resolved  to  tell  Marynia  of  the 
news  which  he  had  heard,  for  he  knew  that  it  could  not  be 
concealed  from  her  anyhow,  and  he  did  not  wish  that  it 
should  be  brought  to  her  too  suddenly  and  incautiously. 

When  she  asked  what  was  to  be  heard  in  the  counting- 
house  and  the  city,  he  said,  — 

"Nothing  new  in  the  counting-house;  but  in  the  city  they 
are  talking  about  certain  misunderstandings  between  the 
Osnovskis." 

"Between  the  Osnovskis?" 

"Yes;  something  has  happened  in  Ostend.  Likely  the 
cause  of  all  is  Kopovski." 

Marynia  flushed  from  curiosity,  and  asked,  — 

"What  dost  thou  say,  Stas?" 

"I  say  what  I  heard.  Thou  wilt  remember  my  remarks 
on  the  evening  of  Pan  Ignas's  betrothal?  It  seems  that  I 
was  right;  I  will  say,  in  brief,  that  there  was  a  certain 
history,  and,   in  general,  that  it  was  bad." 

"  But  thou  hast  said  that  Kopovski  is  the  betrothed  of 

"  He  has  been,  but  he  is  not  now.  Everything  may  be 
broken  in  their  case."  . 

The  news  made  a  great  impression  on  Marynia;  she 
wanted  to  inquire  further,  but  when  Pan  Stanislav  told 
her  that  he  knew  nothing  more,  and  that  in  all  likelihood 
more  detailed  news  would  come  in  some  days,  she  tell  to 
lamenting  the  fate  of  Osnovski,  whom  she  had  always 
liked  much,  and  was  indignant  at  Pani  Aneta. 

39, 


610  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

"I  thought,"  said  she,  "that  he  would  change  her,  and 
attract  her  by  his  love ;  but  she  is  not  worthy  of  him,  and 
Pan  Svirski  is  right  in  what  he  says  about  women." 

The  conversation  was  interrupted  by  Plavitski,  who, 
after  an  early  dinner  at  the  restaurant,  had  come  to  tell 
the  "great  news,"  which  he  had  just  heard,  for  all  the  city 
was  talking  of  it.  Pan  Stanislav  thought  then  that  he 
had  done  well  to  prepare  Marynia,  for  in  Plavitski's  nar- 
rative the  affair  took  on  colors  which  were  too  glaring. 
Plavitski  mentioned,  it  is  true,  in  the  course  of  his  story, 
"principles  and  matrons"  of  the  old  time;  but  apparently 
he  was  satisfied  that  something  of  such  rousing  interest 
had  happened,  and  evidently  he  took  the  affair,  too,  from 
the  comic  side,  for  at  the  end  he  said,  — 

"But  she  is  a  mettlesome  woman!  she  is  a  frolicker! 
Whoever  was  before  her  was  an  opponent!  She  let  no  man 
pass,  no  man!     Poor  Osnosio!  but  she  let  no  man  pass." 

Here  he  raised  his  brows,  and  looked  at  Marynia  and 
Pan  Stanislav,  as  if  wishing  to  see  whether  they  understood 
what  "no  man"  meant.  But  on  Marynia's  face  disgust 
was  depicted. 

"Fe!  Stas,"  said  she,  "how  all  that  is  not  only  dis- 
honorable, but  disgusting  I " 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  611 


CHAPTER  LXI. 

After  dinner  Pan  Stanislav  went  to  Panna  Helena's. 
Pan  Ignas  wore  a  black  bandage  on  his  forehead  yet,  with  a 
wider  plaster  in  the  centre,  covering  a  wound;  he  stuttered, 
and,  when  looking,  squinted  somewhat;  but,  in  general,  he 
was  coming  to  himself  more  and  more,  and  looked  on  him- 
self as  recovered  already.  The  doctor  asserted  that  those 
marks  which  remained  from  the  wound  yet  were  dis- 
appearing without  a  trace.  When  Pan  Stanislav  entered, 
the  young  man  was  sitting  at  a  table  in  a  deep  armchair, 
in  which  old  Pan  Zavilovski  used  to  sit  formerly,  and  was 
listening  with  closed  eyes  to  verses  which  Panna  Ratkovski 
was  reading.     But  she  closed  the  book  at  sight  of  a  visitor. 

"Good-evening,"  said  Pan  Stanislav  to  her.  "How  art 
thou,  Ignas?  I  see  that  I  have  interrupted  a  reading.  In 
what  are  you  so  interested?" 

Panna  Ratkovski  turned  her  closely-clipped  head  to  the 
book,  —  her  hair  had  been  luxuriant  before,  but  she  cut  it 
so  as  not  to  occupy  time  needed  for  the  sick  man ,  —  and 
answered,  — 

"This  is  Pan  Zavilovski's  poetry." 

"Thou  art  listening  to  thy  own  poetry?"  said  Pan 
Stanislav,  laughing.     "Well,  how  does  it  please  thee?" 

"I  hear  it  as  if  it  were  not  my  own," replied  Pan  Ignas. 
After  a  while  he  added,  speaking  slowly,  and  stuttering  a 
little,  "But  I  shall  write  again  as  soon  as  I  recover." 

It  was  evident  that  this  thought  occupied  him  greatly, 
and  that  he  must  have  mentioned  it  more  than  once;  for 
Panna  Ratkovski,  as  if  wishing  to  give  him  pleasure, 
said, — 

"And  the  same  kind  of  beautiful  verses,  and  not  too 

long." 

He  smiled  at  her  with  gratitude,  and  was  silent.  But 
at  that  moment  Panna  Helena  entered  the  room,  and  press- 
ing Pan  Stanislav's  hand,  said,  —  j  .    4.  i. 

"How  well  it  is  that  you  have  come!  I  wanted  to  take 
counsel  with  you." 

"  I  am  at  your  service." 

!'  I  beg  you  to  come  to  my  room." 


612  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

She  conducted  hira  to  the  adjoining  room,  indicated  a 
chair  to  him,  then,  sitting  down  opposite,  was  silent,  as  if 
collecting  her  thoughts. 

Pan  Stanislav,  looking  at  her  under  the  lamp,  noticed, 
for  the  first  time,  a  number  of  silvery  threads  in  her  bright 
hair,  and  remembered  that  that  woman  was  not  thirty  yet. 

She  began  to  speak  in  her  cool  and  decisive  voice,  — 

''I  do  not  request  counsel  precisely,  but  assistance  for 
my  relative.  I  know  that  you  are  a  real  friend  of  his,  and, 
besides,  you  have  shown  me  so  much  kindness  at  the  death 
of  my  father  that  I  shall  be  grateful  the  rest  of  my  life 
for  it;  and  now  I  will  speak  more  openly  with  you  than 
with  any  one  else.  For  personal  reasons,  which  I  will  not 
touch,  and  of  which  I  can  only  say  that  they  are  very 
painful,  I  have  decided  to  create  for  myself  other  con- 
ditions of  life,  —  conditions  for  me  more  endurable.  I 
should  have  done  so  long  since,  but  while  my  father  was 
living  I  could  not.  Then  Ignas's  misfortune  came.  It 
seemed  to  me  my  duty  not  to  desert  the  last  relative  bear- 
ing our  name,  for  whom,  besides,  I  have  a  heartfelt  and 
real  friendship.  But  now,  thanks  be  to  God  !  he  is  saved. 
The  doctors  answer  for  his  life ;  and  if  God  has  given  him 
exceptional  capacities  and  predestined  him  to  great  things, 
nothing  stands  in  the  way  of  his  activity." 

Here  she  stopped,  as  if  she  had  fallen  to  thinking 
suddenly  of  something  in  the  future,  after  which,  when  she 
had  roused  herself,  she  spoke  on,  — 

"  But  by  his  recovery  my  last  task  is  finished,  and  I  am  per- 
mitted to  return  to  my  original  plan.  There  remains  only 
the  property  of  which  my  father  left  a  considerable  amount, 
and  which  would  be  altogether  useless  to  me  in  my  coming 
mode  of  life.  If  I  could  consider  this  property  my  own 
personally,  I  might  dispose  of  it  otherwise,  perhaps ;  but 
since  it  is  family  property,  I  consider  that  I  have  no  right 
to  devote  it  to  foreign  objects  while  any  one  of  the  family 
is  alive  who  bears  the  name,  I  do  not  conceal  from  you 
that  attachment  to  my  cousin  moves  me ;  but  I  judge  that 
I  do  above  all  that  which  conscience  commands,  and  besides 
carry  out  the  wish  of  my  father,  who  did  not  succeed  in 
writing  his  will,  but  who — I  know  with  all  certainty  — 
wished  to  leave  a  part  of  his  property  to  Ignas.  I  have 
provided  for  myself  not  in  the  degree  which  my  father 
thought  of  doing,  but  still  I  take  more  than  I  need.  Ignas 
inherits  the  rest.     The  act  of  conveyance  has  been  written 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  613 

by  Pan  Kononovich  according  to  all  legal  rules.  It  includes 
this  house,  Yasmeu,  the  property  in  Kutno,  the  estates  in 
Foznan  and  the  moneys  with  the  exception  of  that  portion 
which  I  have  retained  for  myself,  and  a  small  part  which  I 
have  reserved  for  Panna  Ratkovski.  It  is  a  question  now 
only  of  delivering  this  document  to  Ignas.  I  have  asked  two 
doctors  if  it  is  not  too  early,  and  if  the  excitement  might 
not  harm  him.  They  assure  me  that  it  is  not  too  early,  and 
that  every  agreeable  news  may  only  act  on  his  health  bene- 
ficially. This  being  the  case,  I  wish  to  finish  the  matter  at 
once,  for  I  am  in  a  hurry." 

Here  she  smiled  faintly.  Pan  Stanislav,  pressing  her  hand, 
asked,  with  unfeigned  emotion,  — 

"  Dear  lady,  I  do  not  inquire  through  curiosity,  What  do 
you  intend  ?  " 

Not  wishing  evidently  to  give  an  explicit  answer,  she 
said,  — 

"  A  person  has  the  right  always  to  take  refuge  under  the 
care  of  God.  As  to  Ignas,  he  has  an  honest  heart  and  a 
noble  character,  which  will  not  be  injured  by  wealth ;  but 
the  property  is  very  considerable,  and  he  is  young,  inex- 
perienced ;  he  will  begin  life  in  conditions  changed  altogether, 
—  hence  I  wish  to  ask  you,  as  a  man  of  honor  and  his  friend, 
to  have  guardianship  over  him.  Care  for  him,  keep  him 
from  evil  people,  but  above  all  remind  him  that  his  duty 
is  to  write  and  work  further.  For  me  it  was  a  question, 
not  only  of  saving  his  life,  but  his  gifts.  Let  him  write; 
let  him  pay  society,  not  for  himself  only,  but  for  those  too 
whom  God  created  for  His  own  glory  and  the  assistance  of 
men,  but  who  destroyed  both  themselves  and  their  gifts." 

Here  her  lips  became  pale  on  a  sudden,  her  hands  closed, 
and  the  voice  stopped  in  her  throat.  It  might  seem  that 
the  despair  accumulated  in  her  soul  would  break  all  bounds 
immediately ;  but  she  mastered  herself  after  a  while,  and 
only  her  clinched  hands  testified  what  the  effort  was  which 
that  action  had  cost  her. 

Pan  Stanislav,  seeing  her  suffering,  judged  that  it  would 
be  better  to  turn  her  thought  in  another  direction,  toward 
practical  and  current  affairs  ;  hence  he  said, — 

"  Evidently  this  will  be  an  unheard  of  change  in  the  lite 
of  Ignas  ;  but  I  too  hope  that  it  will  result  only  in  good. 
Knowing  him,  it  is  difficult  to  admit  another  issue.  Kut 
could  you  not  defer  the  act  for  a  year,  or  at  least  halt  a 
year  ?'" 


614  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

«  Why  ?  " 

"For  reasons  which  do  not  lie  in  Ignas  himself,  but 
which  might  have  connection  with  him.  I  do  not  know 
whether  the  news  has  reached  you  that  the  marriage  of 
Panna  Castelli  to  Kopovski  is  broken,  and  that  the  posi- 
tion of  those  ladies  is  tremendously  awkward  in  con- 
sequence. Through  breaking  with  Ignas,  they  have  made 
public  opinion  indignant,  and  now  their  names  are  on 
people's  tongues  again.  It  would  be  for  them  a  perfect 
escape  to  return  to  Ignas ;  and  it  is  possible  to  suppose  that 
when  they  learn  of  your  gift,  they  will  surely  attempt  this, 
and  it  is  unknown  whether  Ignas,  especially  after  so  short 
an  interval,  and  weakened  as  he  is,  might  not  let  himself 
be  involved  by  them." 

Panna  Helena  looked  at  Pan  Stanislav  with  brows  con- 
tracted from  attention,  and,  dwelling  on  what  he  said,  she 
answered,, — 

"  No.     I  judge  that  Ignas  will  choose  otherwise." 

*'  I  divine  your  thought,"  said  Pan  Stanislav  ;  "  but  think, 
—  he  was  attached  to  that  other  one  beyond  every  estimate, 
to  such  a  degree  that  he  did  not  wish  to  outlive  the  loss  of 
her." 

Here  something  happened  which  Pan  Stanislav  had  not 
expected,  for  Panna  Helena,  who  had  always  such  control 
of  herself  and  was  almost  stern,  opened  her  thin  arms  in 
helplessness,  and  said,  — 

"Ah,  if  that  were  true, —  if  there  were  not  for  him  any 
other  happiness  save  in  her!  Oh,  Pan  Polanyetski,  I  knew 
that  he  ought  not  to  do  that;  but  there  are  things  stronger 
than  man,  and  they  are  things  which  he  needs  for  life 
absolutely  —  and  besides  —  " 

Pan  Stanislav  looked  at  her  with  astonishment ;  after  a 
while  she  added,  — 

"  Besides,  while  one  lives,  one  may  enter  on  a  better 
road  any  moment." 

"  I  did  not  suppose  that  I  should  hear  anything  like  this 
from  her,"  thought  Pan  Stanislav.     And  he  said  aloud,  — 

"Then  let  us  go  to  Ignas." 

Pan  Ignas  received  the  news  first  with  amazement,  and 
then  with  delight;  but  that  delight  was  as  if  external.  It 
might  be  supposed  that,  by  the  aid  of  his  brain,  he  under- 
stood that  something  immensely  favorable  had  met  him, 
and  that  he  had  told  himself  that  he  must  be  pleased  with 
it,  but  that  he  did  not  feel  it  with  his  heart.     His  heart 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  615 

declared  itself  only  in  the  care  and  interest  with  which  he 
asked  Panna  Helena  what  she  intended  to  do  with  herself, 
and  what  would  become  of  her.  She  was  not  willing  to 
answer  him,  and  stated,  in  general  terms,  that  she  would 
withdraw  from  the  world,  and  that  her  resolve  was  un- 
changeable. She  implored  of  him  this,  which  clearly  con- 
cerned her  most,  not  to  waste  his  powers  and  disappoint 
people  who  were  attached  to  him.  She  spoke  as  a  mother, 
and  he,  repeating,  "  I  will  write  again  the  moment  I  re- 
cover," kissed  her  hands  and  had  tears  in  his  eyes.  It 
was  not  known,  however,  whether  those  tears  meant  sym- 
pathy for  her,  or  the  regret  of  a  child  abandoned  by  a  good 
and  kind  nurse ;  for  Panna  Helena  told  him  that  from  that 
moment  she  considered  herself  a  guest  in  his  house,  and  in 
two  days  would  withdraw.  Pan  Ignas  would  not  agree  to 
this,  and  extorted  the  promise  from  her  to  remain  a  week 
longer.  She  yielded  at  last,  through  fear  of  exciting  him 
and  injuring  his  health.  Then  he  grew  calm,  and  was  as 
gladsome  as  a  little  boy  whose  prayer  has  been  granted. 
Toward  the  end  of  the  evening,  however,  he  grew  thought- 
ful, as  if  remembering  something,  looked  around  with  aston- 
ished eyes  on  those  present,  and  said, — 

"  It  is  wonderful,  but  it  seems  to  me  as  if  all  this  had 
happened  before  some  time." 

Pan  Stanislav,  wishing  to  give  a  more  cheerful  tone  to 
the  conversation,  asked,  laughing,  —  •.         i      <.  9 

"Was  it  during  previous  existences  on  other  planets.'' 

It  was,  was  it  not  ? "  .  ,      ,  ,  j   „„^„ 

"In  that  way  everything  might  have  happened  some 

other  time,"  said  Pan  Ignas.  „i,^,^„ 

«  And  you  have  written  the  very  same  verses  already  — 

on  the  moon  ?  "  ,      ^  ^_^     ^     ^  ^a  „*■  it-  m-onr 

He  took  up  a  book  lying  on  the  table,  looked  at  it,  grew 

thoughtful,  and  said  at  last,  —  ^i^i-olv  " 

"I  will  vWite  again,  but  when  I  recover  completely. 
Pan  Stanislav  took  farewell  and  ^f^°*  «^*/ J^^^^f  ^^^^ 

Panna  Ratkovski  removed  to  her  little  chamber  at  lam 

Melnitski's. 


616  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 


CHAPTER  LXII. 

The  separation  of  the  Osnovskis,  who  in  social  life  occu- 
pied a  position  rather  prominent,  and  the  great  fortune 
which  fell  on  a  sudden  to  Pan  Iguas,  were  the  items  of  news 
with  which  the  whole  city  was  occupied.  People  who  supposed 
that  Panna  Helena  had  taken  the  young  man  to  her  house 
to  marry  him  were  stunned  from  amazement.  New  gossip 
and  new  suppositions  rose.  People  began  to  whisper  that 
Pan  Ignas  was  a  son  of  old  Zavilovski ;  that  he  had  threat- 
ened his  sister  with  a  law-suit  for  concealing  the  will ;  that 
she  chose  to  renounce  all  and  go  abroad  rather  than  be 
exposed  to  a  scandalous  law-suit.  Others  declared  that  the 
cause  of  her  departure  was  Panna  Ratkovski ;  that  between 
those  two  young  ladies  scenes  had  taken  place  unpar- 
alleled, —  scenes  to  arouse  indignation.  In  consequence  of 
this,  self-respecting  houses  would  not  permit  Panna  Rat- 
kovski  to  cross  their  thresholds.  There  were  others,  too, 
who,  appearing  in  the  name  of  public  good,  refused  simply 
to  Panna  Helena  the  right  of  disposing  of  property  in  that 
fashion,  giving  at  the  same  time  to  understand  that  they 
would  have  acted  more  in  accord  with  public  benefit. 

In  a  word,  everything  was  said  that  gossip  and  meddling 
and  frivolity  and  low  malice  could  invent.  Soon  new  food 
for  public  curiosity  arrived  under  the  form  of  news  of  a 
duel  between  Osnovski  and  Kopovski,  in  which  Osnovski 
was  wounded.  Kopovski  returned  to  Warsaw  soon  after 
with  the  fame  of  a  hero  of  uncommon  adventures  in  love 
and  arms,  —  stupider  than  ever,  but  also  more  beautiful, 
and  in  general  so  charming  that  at  sight  of  him  hearts 
young  and  old  began  to  beat  wdth  quickened  throb. 

Osnovski,  wounded  rather  slightly,  was  under  treatment 
in  Brussels.  Svirski  received  from  him  a  brief  an- 
nouncement soon  after  the  duel,  that  he  was  well,  that  in 
the  middle  of  winter  he  would  go  to  Egypt,  but,  before 
that,  would  return  to  Prytulov.  The  artist  came  to  Pan 
Stanislav  with  this  news,  expressing  at  the  same  time  the 
fear  that  Osnovski  was  returning  only  to  avenge  his  wrongs 
jifresh  on  Kopovski. 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  617 

"For  I  am  sure,"  said  he,  "that  if  he  is  wounded,  it  is 
because  he  permitted  it.  According  to  me,  he  wished  to 
die  simply.  I  have  shot  with  him  more  than  once  at 
Brufim's,  and  know  how  he  shoots.  I  have  seen  him  hit 
matches,  and  am  convinced  that  had  he  wished  to  blow 
out  Koposio,  we  should  n't  see  him  to-day." 

"  Perhaps  not,"  answered  Pan  Stanislav ;  "  but  since  he 
talks  of  going  to  Egypt,  't  is  clear  that  he  does  not  intend 
to  let  himself  be  killed.  Let  him  go,  and  let  him  take  Pan 
Ignas." 

"  It  is  true  that  Pan  Ignas  ought  to  see  the  world  a  little. 
I  should  like  to  go  from  here  to  see  him.     How  is  he  ?  " 

"  I  will  go  with  you,  for  I  have  not  seen  him  to-day.  He 
is  well,  but  somehow  strange.  You  remember  what  a 
proud  soul  he  was,  shut  up  in  himself.  Now  he  is  in  good 
health,  as  it  were,  but  has  become  a  little  child ;  at  the  least 
trouble  there  are  tears  in  his  eyes." 

After  a  while  the  two  went  out  together. 

"  Is  Panna  Helena  with  Pan  Ignas  yet  ? "  inquired 
Svirski. 

"  She  is.  He  takes  her  departure  to  heart  so  much  that 
she  has  pity  on  him.  She  was  to  go  away  in  a  week ;  now, 
as  you  see,  the  second  week  has  passed." 

"What  does  she  wish  specially  to  do  with  herself?  " 

"  She  says  nothing  precise  on  this  point.  Probably  she 
will  enter  some  religious  order  and  pray  all  her  life  for 
Ploshovski." 

"  But  Panna  Ratkovski  ?  " 

"  Panna  Eatkovski  is  with  Pani  Melnitski." 

"  Did  Pan  Ignas  feel  her  absence  much  ?  " 

"  For  the  first  days.    Afterward  he  seemed  to  forget  her." 

"  If  he  does  not  marry  her  in  a  year,  I  will  repeat  my 
proposal.  As  I  love  God,  I  will.  Such  a  woman,  when  she 
becomes  a  wife,  grows  attached  to  her  husband." 

"  I  know  that  in  her  soul  Panna  Helena  wishes  Ignas  to 
marry  Panna  Ratkovski.  But  who  knows  how  it  will  turn 
out  ?■" 

"I  am  sure  that  he  will  marry  her;  what  I  say  is  the 
imagining  of  a  weak  head.     I  shall  not  marry." 

"  My  wife  said  that  you  told  her  that  yesterday ;  but  she 
laughed  at  the  threat. " 

"  It  is  not  a  threat ;  it  is  only  this,  that  I  have  no  hap- 
piness. " 

Their  conversation  was  interrupted  by  the  coming  of  a 


618  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

carriage,  in  which  were  Paul  Kraslavski  and  Paui  Mashko. 
Those  ladies  were  going  in  the  direction  of  the  Alley, 
wishing  evidently  to  take  the  air.  The  day  was  clear,  but 
cold  ;  and  Pani  Mashko  was  so  occupied  with  drawing  a 
warm  cloak  on  her  mother  that  she  did  not  see  them,  and 
did  not  return  their  salutation. 

*'  I  called  on  them  the  day  before  yesterday,"  said  Svirski, 
"  She  is  a  kindly  sort  of  woman." 

"  I  hear  that  she  is  a  very  good  daughter,"  answered  Pan 
Stanislav. 

"  I  noticed  that  when  I  was  there ;  but,  as  is  usual  witli 
an  old  sceptic,  it  occurred  to  me  at  once  that  she  finds 
pleasure  also  in  the  role  of  a  careful  daughter.  Do  you 
not  see  women  often  doing  good  of  some  special  sort  be- 
cause they  think  that  it  becomes  them  ?" 

And  Svirski  was  not  mistaken.  In  fact,  Pani  Mashko 
found  pleasure  in  the  role  of  a  self-sacrificing  daughter. 
But  that  itself  was  very  much,  since  such  a  satisfaction 
flowed  still  from  real  attachment  to  her  mother,  and  because 
at  sight  of  her  misfortune  something  was  roused  in  the 
woman,  something  quivered.  At  the  same  time  Svirski  did 
not  wish,  or  did  not  know  how,  to  draw  this  further*  conclu- 
sion from  his  thoughts  :  that  as  in  the  domain  of  the  toilet 
a  woman  in  addition  to  a  new  hat  needs  a  new  cloak,  a  new 
dress,  new  gloves,  so  in  the  domain  of  good  deeds  once  she 
has  taken  up  something  she  wants  to  be  fitted  out  anew  from 
head  to  foot.  In  this  way  the  rebirth  of  a  woman  is  never 
quite  impossible. 

Meanwhile  they  arrived  at  Pan  Ignas's,  who  received 
them  with  delight;  because,  for  some  time  past,  the  sight 
of  people  gave  him  pleasure,  as  it  does  usually  to  patients 
returning  to  life.  When  he  had  learned  from  Svirski  that 
the  latter  would  go  soon  to  Italy,  he  began  to  insist  that  he 
should  take  him. 

"Ah,  ha!"  thought  Svirski;  "then  somehow  Panna 
Eatkovski  is  not  in  thy  head?" 

Pan  Tgnas  declared  that  he  had  been  thinking  long 
of  Italy;  that  nowhere  else  would  he  write  as  there,  under 
those  impressions  of  art,  and  those  centuries  crumbling 
into  ruins  entwined  with  ivy.  He  was  carried  away  and 
pleased  by  that  thought;  hence  the  honest  Svirski  agreed 
without  difficulty. 

"But,"  said  he,  "I  cannot  stay  long  there  this  time,  for 
I  have  a  number  of  portraits  to  paint  in  this  city;  and, 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  619 

besides,  T  promised  Pan  Stanislav  to  return  to  the  christen- 
ing."    Then  he  turned  to  Pan  Stanislav, — 

"Well,  what  is  it  finally,  the  christening  of  a  son  or  a 
daughter? " 

"Let  it  be  what  it  likes,"  answered  Pan  Stanislav,  "if 
only,  with  God's  will,  in  good  health." 

And  while  the  other  two  began  to  plan  the  journey,  he 
took  farewell,  and  went  to  his  counting-house.  He  had  a 
whole  mail  from  the  previous  day  to  look  over,  so,  shutting 
himself  in,  he  began  to  read  letters,  and  dictate  to  a  writer 
in  short-hand  those  which  touched  affairs  needing  imme- 
diate transaction.  After  a  while,  however,  a  newly  hired 
servant  interrupted  his  labor  by  announcing  that  some  lady 
wished  to  see  him. 

Pan  Stanislav  was  disturbed.  It  seemed  to  him,  it  is 
unknown  why,  that  this  could  be  no  other  than  Pani 
Mashko;  and,  foreseeing  certain  explanations  and  scenes, 
his  heart  began  to  beat  unquietly. 

Meanwhile  the  laughing  and  glad  face  of  Marynia  ap- 
peared in  the  door  most  unexpectedly. 

"Ah,  well,  haven't  I  given  a  surprise?"  inquired  she. 

Pan  Stanislav  sprang  up  at  sight  of  her,  with  a  feeling 
of  sudden  and  immense  delight,  and,  seizing  her  hands, 
began  to  kiss  them,  one  after  the  other. 

"But,  my  dear,  this  is  really  a  surprise!"  said  he. 
"Whence  did  it  come  to  thy  head  to  look  in  here?" 

And  thus  speaking,  he  pushed  an  armchair  toward  her, 
and  seated  her  as  a  dear  and  honored  guest;  from  his 
radiant  face  it  was  evident  what  pleasure  her  presence  was 
giving  him. 

"I  have  something  curious  to  show  thee,"  said  Marynia; 
"and  because  I  must  walk  a  good  deal,  anyhow,  I  came  in. 
And  thou,  what  didst  thou  think?  Whom  didst  thou  look 
for?     Own  up,  right  away! " 

Thus  speaking,  she  began  to  threaten  him  while  laugh- 
ing; but  he  answered,  — 

"  So  much  business  is  done  here,  in  every  case  I  did  n  t 
think  it  was  thou.     What  hast  thou  to  show?  " 

"See  what  a  letter  I  have ! " 

Dear  and  Beloved  Lady,  —  It  will  astonish  you  perhaps  that  I 
turn  to  you;  but  vou,  who  are  to  become  a  mother  soon,  are  the  only 
person  on  earth  who  will  iinderstan.l  what  must  take  phue  in  tlie  heart 
of  a  mother -even  if  she  is  only  an  aunt -who  sees  her  child  s 


620  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

unhappiness.  Believe  me  it  is  a  question  for  me  of  nothing  else  than 
bringing  even  temporary  relief  to  an  imhappy  child  ;  ami  it  inter- 
ests me  the  more,  that  in  all  this  that  has  happened  I  myself  am  to 
blame  chiefly.  Perhaps  these  words  too  will  astonish  you,  but  i:  is 
the  case,  l'  am  to  blame.  If  a  bad  and  spoilt  man,  at  the  moment 
when  Xitechka  was  tottering  and  losing  her  balance,  dared  to  touch 
her  with  lii^  unworthy  lips,  I  should  not  have  lost  my  head  and  sac- 
rificed the  child.  Indeed,  Yozio  Osnovski  is  to  blame  too:  he  put 
the  question  of  marriage  ou  a  sharp  knife ;  he  suspected  something 
and  wanted  to  rid  his  house  of  Kopovski.  May  God  forgive  him,  for 
it  is  not  proper  to  defend  one's  self  at  the  cost  of  another's  happiness 
and  life.  Aly  dear  lady !  it  seemed  to  me  at  the  first  moment  that 
the  only  issue  was  marriage  with  the  unworthy  Kopovski,  and  that 
Nitechka  had  no  longer  the  right  to  become  the  wife  of  Ignas.  I 
wrote  even  purposely  to  Ignas  that  she  followed  the  impulse  of  her 
heart,  and  that  she  would  give  her  hand  to  Kopovski  with  attach- 
ment ;  and  I  thought  that  in  this  way  Ignas  would  bear  the  loss  of 
her  more  easily,  and  I  wanted  to  decrease  his  pain.  Nitechka  for 
Kopovski !  The  merciful  God  did  not  permit  that ;  and  when  I  too 
saw  that  that  union  would  have  been  death  for  Nitechka,  we  were 
thinking  only  of  this,  how  to  be  free  of  those  bonds.  It  is  no  longer 
a  question  for  me  of  returning  to  former  relations,  for  Xitechka  too 
has  lost  faith  in  people  and  in  life,  so  that  probably  she  would  never 
be  willing  to  agree  to  a  return.  She  does  not  even  know  that  I  am 
writing  this  letter.     If  the  beloved  lady  had  seen  how  Nitechka  has 

?aid  for  all  this  with  her  health,  and  how  terribly  she  felt  the  act  of 
an  Ignas,  she  would  have  pitied  her.  Pan  Ignas  should  not  have 
done  what  he  has  done,  even  out  of  regard  for  Nitechka ;  alas !  men 
in  such  cases  count  only  with  their  own  wishes.  She  is  as  much  to 
blame  in  all  this  as  a  newly  born  infant ;  but  I  see  how  she  melts 
before  ray  eyes,  and  how  from  morning  till  evening  she  is  grieving 
because  she  was  the  unconscious  cause  of  his  misfortune,  and  might 
have  broken  his  life.  Yesterday,  with  tears  in  her  eyes,  she  begged 
me  in  case  of  her  death  to  be  a  mother  to  Ignas,  and  to  watch  over 
him  as  over  my  own  son.  Every  day  she  says  that  maybe  he  is 
cursing  her,  and  my  heart  is  breaking,  for  the  doctor  says  that  he 
answers  for  nothing  if  her  condition  continues.  O  God  of  mercv ! 
but  come  to  the  aid  of  a  despairing  mother  ;  let  me  know  even  from 
time  to  time  something  about  Ignas,  or  rather  write  to  me  that  he  is 
well,  that  he  is  calm,  that  he  has  forgotten  her,  that  he  is  not  cursing 
her,  so  that  I  might  show  her  that  letter  and  bring  her  even  a  little 
relief  from  her  torture.  I  feel  that  I  am  writing  only  in  half  con- 
sciousness, but  you  will  understand  what  is  taking  place  in  me.  when 
I  look  on  that  unhappy  sacrifice.     God  will  reward  you  and  I  will 

Eray  every  day  that  your  daughter,  if  God  gives  you  a  daughter,  be 
appier  than  my  poor  Nitechka. 

"  What  is  thy  thought  about  that?  "  inquired  Afarynia. 
"I  think,"  said  Pan  Stanislav,  "that  news  of  the  change 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  go^ 

in  Pan  Ignas's  fortune  has  snread  rafh^r  ,..;  i  i 
second,  I  think  that  this  letter  ?pntfn  "^fl^'    ^^^ 

directed  really  to  Ignas  "  '  ^  ^'^^^  ^^^'^««'  ^s 

"  That  may  be.     It  is  not  an  honest  letter-  but  sh-ll  fh. 
may  be  very  unhappy."  icLwjr,  out  still  they 

"It  is  certain  that  their  position  cannot  be  pleasant 
Osnovski  was  right  when  he  wrote  that  t.l.pr«  Te  ?.„i'^y*: 


vT  \T  f  '^Smwiien  He  wrote  that  tliere  is  even  for 
Pani  Bronich  an  immense  disappointment  in  all  tMs  and 
that  she  IS  trying  vainly  to  deceive  herself.  As  fo  Pauna 
Castelh  you  know  what  Svirski  told  me?  I  do  not  reneat 
to    hee  his  words  literally;  but  he  said  that  now  onTy'a 


""^^-^  -oc.aiij  ,  uut  ne  saia  ttiat  now  onlv  a 

fool,   or  a  man  without  moral  value,   would  marry  her 
They  understand  this  themselves,  and  certainly  it^s  noi 
pleasan    for  them.     Perhaps,  too,  conscience  is  speaking 
but  still    see  how  many  dodges  there  are  in  that  letter 
Do  not  show  it  to  Ignas." 

"No,  I  will  not,"  answered  Marynia,  whose  warmest 
wishes  were  on  the  side  of  Panna  Ratkovski. 

And  Pan  Stanislav,  following  the  thought  which  was 
digging  into  him  for  some  time  past,  repeated  to  her,  word 
tor  word  almost,  what  he  had  repeated  to  himself,  — 

"There  is  a  certain  logic  which  punishes,  and' they  are 
harvesting  what  they  sowed.  Evil,  like  a  wave,  is  thrown 
back  from  the  shore  and  returns." 

Hereupon  Marynia  began  to  draw  figures  on  the  floor 
with  her  parasol,  as  if  meditating  on  something;  then, 
raising  her  clear  eyes  to  her  husband,  she  said, — 

"  It  is  true,  my  Stas,  that  evil  returns ;  but  it  may  return, 
too,  as  remorse  and  sorrow^.  In  that  case  the  Lord  God  is 
satisfied  with  such  penance,  and  punishes  no  further." 

If  Marynia  had  known  what  was  troubling  him,  and 
wanted  to  soften  his  suffering,  and  console  the  man,  she 
could  not  have  found  anything  better  than  those  few  simple 
words.  For  some  time  Pan  Stanislav  had  been  oppressed 
by  a  foreboding  that  some  misfortune  must  meet  him,  and 
he  was  in  ceaseless  fear  of  it.  From  her  only  did  he  learn 
that  his  sorrow  and  remorse  might  be  that  returning  wave. 
Yes,  he  had  had  no  little  remorse,  and  sorrow  had  not  been 
wanting  in  him;  he  felt,  too,  that  if  suffering  might  and 
could  be  a  satisfaction,  he  would  be  ready  to  suffer  twice 
as  grievously.  Now  a  desire  took  him  to  seize  in  his  arms 
that  woman  full  of  simplicity  and  honesty,  from  whom  so 
munh  good  came  to  him;  and  if  he  did  not  do  so,  it  was 
only  from  fear  of  emotions  for  her,  and  out  of  regard  for 


622  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

her  condition,  and  that  indecision  which  fettered  him  in 
his  relations  with  her.  But  he  raised  her  hand  to  his  lips, 
and  said, — 

"Thou  art  right,  and  art  very  kind." 

She,  pleased  with  the  praise,  smiled  at  him,  and  began 
to  prepare  for  home. 

When  she  had  gone.  Pan  Stanislav  went  to  the  window, 
and  followed  her  with  his  eyes.  From  afar  he  saw  her 
carved  form  advancing  with  heavy  step,  her  dark  hair 
peeping  from  under  her  hat;  and  in  that  moment  he  felt 
with  new  force,  greater  than  ever,  that  she  was  the  dearest 
person  in  the  world  to  him,  and  that  he  loved  her  only, 
and  would  love  her  till  his  death. 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  628 


CHAPTER  LXIII. 

Two  days  later  Pan  Stanislav  received  a  note  from 
Mashko,  containing  a  few  words  of  farewell. 

•'I  go  to-day,"  wrote  he.  "  I  shall  try  absolutely  to  run  in  once 
more  to  thee ;  but  in  every  case  I  bid  thee  farewell,  and  thank  thee 
for  all  proofs  of  friendship  which  thou  hast  shown  me.  May  the 
Lord  God  prosper  thee  better  than  He  has  prospered  me  so  far!  1 
should  like  to  see  thee,  even  for  a  moment ;  and  if  I  can,  1  shall  run 
in  about  four  o'clock.  Meanwhile  I  repeat  the  request  to  remem- 
ber my  wife,  and  protect  her  a  little  when  people  drop  her.  1  praj 
thee  also  to  defend  me  before  her  against  people's  tongues.  1  am 
going  to  Berlin  at  nine  in  the  evening,  and  (juite  openly.  Till  we 
meet  again  !  and  in  every  case,  be  well,  —  and  once  more,  thanks  for 
everything. 

"  Mashko." 

Pan  Stanislav  went  to  tlie  counting-house  about  four, 
but  he  waited  beyond  an  hour  in  vain.  "He  will  not 
come,"  thought  he,  at  last;  "so  much  the  better."  And 
he  went  home  with  the  feeling  of  satisfaction  that  he  had 
succeeded  in  avoiding  a  disagreeable  meeting.  But  in  the 
evening  a  species  of  pity  for  Mashko  began  to  move  him: 
he  thought  that  the  man  had  gone  by  a  bad  and  feverish 
road,  it  is  true;  but  he 'had  had  his  fill  of  torment  and 
tearing,  and  in  the  end  had  paid  dearly;  that  all  which 
had  happened  was  to  be  foreseen  long  before;  and  if  those 
who  foresaw  it  had  associated  with  him,  and  received  him 
at  their  houses,  they  ought  not  to  show  him  contempt  in 
the  day  of  his  downfall.  He  knew,  too,  that  he  should 
give  Mashko  pleasure  by  his  appearance  at  the  station; 
and  after  a  moment  of  hesitation  he  went. 

On  the  road  he  remembered  that  likely  he  should  find 
Pani  Mashko,  too,  at  the  station;  but  he  knew  that  m 
any  event  he  must  meet  her,  and  he  judged  that  to  with- 
draw because  of  her  would  be  a  kind  of  vain  cowardice. 
With  these  thoughts  he  went  to  the  station. 

In  the  hall  of  the  first  class,  which  is  not  large  there 
were  several  persons,  and  on  the  tables  whole^piles  of 
travelling-cases,  but  nowhere  could  he  see  Mashko;  and 
only  after  he  had  looked  around  carefully  did  he  recognize 


^24  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

iu  a  young  veiled  lady,  sitting  in  one  corner  of  the  hall, 
Pani  Mashko. 

"Good-evening,"  said  he,  approaching  her.  "I  have 
come  to  say  good-by  to  your  husband.     Where  is  he?'' 

She  bowed  slightly,  and  answered,  with  the  thin,  cold 
voice  usual  to  her, — 

"My  husband  is  buying  tickets." 

"How  tickets?     Are  you  going  with  him?" 

"No;  my  husband  is  buying  a  ticket." 

Further  conversation  under  these  conditions  seemed 
rather  difficult;  but,  after  a  while,  Mashko  appeared  in 
company  with  a  railway  servant,  to  whom  he  gave  the 
ticket  and  money,  with  the  order  to  check  the  baggage. 
Wearing  a  long  travelling  overcoat  and  a  soft  silk  cap,  he 
looked,  with  his  side  whiskers  and  gold  glasses,  like  some 
travelling  diplomat.  Pan  Stanislav  deceived  himself,  too, 
in  thinking  that  Mashko  would  show  uncommon  delight  at 
his  coming.  Mashko,  when  he  saw  him,  said,  it  is  true, 
"Oh,  how  thankful  I  am  that  thou  hast  come!"  but,  as  it 
were,  with  a  kind  of  indifference,  and  with  the  hurry  usual 
to  people  who  are  going  on  a  journey. 

"Everything  is  checked,"  said  he,  looking  around  the 
iall.  "But  where  are  my  hand  packages?  Ah,  here  they 
are!     Good!" 

Then  he  turned  to  Pan  Stanislav,  and  said,  — 

"I  thank  thee  for  having  come.  But  do  me  still  one 
kindness,  and  conduct  my  wife  home;  or,  at  least,  go  out 
with  her,  and  help  her  to  find  a-  carriage.  Terenia,  Pan 
Polanyetski  will  take  thee  home.  My  dear  friend,  come 
one  moment;  I  have  something  more  to  say  to  thee." 

And,  taking  Pan  Stanislav  aside,  he  began  to  speak 
feverishly,  — 

"Take  her  home  without  fail.  I  have  given  a  plausible 
form  to  my  journey;  but  do  thou  say  to  her,  so,  in  passing, 
that  thou  art  surprised  that  I  am  going  such  a  short  time 
before  the  calling  of  the  will  case,  for  if  any  event  should 
detain  me,  the  case  must  be  lost.  I  wanted  to  go  to  thy 
house  just  to  ask  this  of  thee;  but,  as  thou  knowest,  on  the 
day  of  a  journey  —  The  case  will  come  up  in  a  week.  I  shall 
fall  ill;  my  place  will  be  taken  by  my  assistant,  a  young 
advocate,  a  beginner,  and  of  course  he  will  lose.  But  the 
affair  will  be  plausible  through  my  illness.  I  have  secured 
my  wife;  everything  is  in  her  name,  and  they  will  not 
take  one  glass  from  her.     I  have  a  plan  which  I  shall  lay 


CHILDREN  OP  THE  SOIL.  625 

before  a  shipbuilding  company  in  Antwerp.  If  I  make  a 
contract,  timber  will  rise  in  price  throughout  this  whole 
country ;  but  who  knows,  in  that  case,  if  I  shall  not  return, 
for  the  whole  affair  of  Ploshov  is  a  trifle  in  comparison 
with  this  business  ?  I  cannot  speak  more  in  detail.  Were 
it  not  for  the  grievous  moments  which  my  wife  must  pass, 
I  should  keep  regret  away;  but  tliat  just  throttles  me." 

Here  he  touched  his  throat  with  his  hand,  and  then 
spoke  still  more  hurriedly,  — 

"  Misfortune  fell  on  me ;  but  misfortune  may  fall  on  any 
man.  For  that  matter,  it  is  too  late  to  speak  of  this. 
What  has  been,  has  been ;  but  I  did  what  I  could,  and  I 
shall  do  yet  what  I  can.  And  this,  too,  is  a  relief  to  me,  — 
that  thou  wilt  get  thy  o\yn  even  from  Kremen.  If  I  had 
time  to  tell  thee  what  I  have  in  mind,  thou  couldst  see  that 
it  would  not  come  to  the  head  of  every  man.  Maybe  I 
shall  have  business  even  with  thy  firm.  I  do  not  give  up, 
as  thou  seest —  I  have  secured  my  wife  perfectly.  Well, 
it's  over,  it's  over!  Another  in  my  place  might  have 
ended  worse.  Might  he  not  ?  But  let  us  return  to  my 
wife  now." 

Pan  Stanislav  listened  to  Mashko's  words  with  a  certain 
pain.  He  wondered,  it  is  true,  at  his  mental  fertility; 
but  at  the  same  time  he  felt  that  in  him  there  was  lacking 
that  balance  which  makes  the  difference  between  a  man  of 
enterprise  and  an  enterprising  adventurer.  It  seemed  to 
him,  too,  that  there  was  in  Mashko  already  something  of 
the  future  worn-out  trickster,  who  will  struggle  for  a  long 
time  yet,  but  who,  with  his  plans,  will  be  falling  lower 
and  lower  till  he  ends,  with  boots  worn  on  one  side,  in  a 
second-rate  coffee-house,  telling,  in  a  circle  of  the  same 
kind  of  « broken  men,"  of  his  former  greatness.  He 
thought,  also,  that  the  cause  of  all  this  was  a  life  resting 
to  begin  with  on  untruth ;  and  that  Mashko,  with  all  his 
intelligence,  can  never  work  himself  out  of  the  fetters  of 
falsehood.  tt    i,  ^ 

See,  he  pretends  yet,  and  even  before  his  wife.  He  had 
to  do  so ;  but  when  the  hall  began  to  fill  with  people,  some 
acquaintances  stepped  up  to  greet  the  two  men,  and  ex- 
change a  couple  of  such  hurried  phrases  as  are  used  at 
railroads.  Mashko  answered  them  with  such  a  tinge  ot 
loftiness  and  favor  that  anger  seized  Pan  Stanislav.  And 
to  think,"  said  he,  '' that  he  is  fleeing  from  his  creditors  I 
What  would  happen  were  that  man  to  reach  fortune  / 

40 


626  CHILDREN   OF  THR  SOIL. 

But  now  the  bell  sounded,  and  beyond  the  window  was 
heard  the  hurried  breath  of  the  engine.  Peojjle  began  to 
move  about  and  hasten. 

"  I  am  curious  to  know  what  is  going  on  in  him  now  ?  " 
thought  Pan  Stanislav. 

But  even  at  that  moment  Mashko  could  not  free  himself 
from  the  bonds  of  lying.  Maybe  his  heart  was  straitened 
by  an  evil  foreboding :  maybe  he  had  a  gleam  of  second 
sight,  that  that  wife  whom  he  loved  he  should  never  see 
again ;  that  he  was  going  to  want,  to  contempt,  to  fall ;  but 
it  was  not  permitted  him  to  show  what  he  felt,  or  even  to 
say  farewell  to  his  wife  as  he  wished. 

The  second  bell  sounded.  They  went  out  on  the  plat- 
form, and  Mashko  stood  still  a  Avhile  before  the  sleeping- 
car.  The  gleam  of  i;he  lamp  fell  directly  on  his  face,  on 
which  two  small  wrinkles  appeared  near  the  mouth.  But 
he  spoke  calmly,  with  the  tone  of  a  man  whom  business 
constrains  to  a  few  days'  absence,  but  who  is  sure  that  he 
will  return. 

"  Well,  till  we  meet  again,  Teresia !  Kiss  mamma's 
hands  for  me,  and  be  well.     Till  we  meet,  till  we  meet!  " 

Thus  speaking,  he  raised  her  hand,  which,  moreover,  he 
kept  long  at  his  lips.  Pan  Stanislav,  going  aside  a  little 
by  design,  thought,  — 

"  They  see  each  other  now  for  the  last  time.  In  some 
half  year  a  separation  in  form  will  follow." 

And  the  peculiar  lot  of  those  two  women  struck  him, 
the  same  for  mother  and  daughter.  Both  married  with 
great  appearances  of  brilliancy;  and  the  husbands  of  both 
had  to  run  away  from  their  domestic  hearths,  leaving  only 
shame  to  their  wives. 

But  now  the  bell  sounded  the  third  time.  Mashko 
entered.  For  a  while,  in  the  wide  pane  of  the  sleeping- 
car,  his  side  whiskers  were  visible,  and  his  gold-rimmed 
eye-glasses ;  then  the  train  pushed  out  into  darkness. 

"I  am  at  your  service,"  said  Pan  Stanislav  to  Pani 
Mashko. 

He  was  almost  certain  that  she  would  thank  him  dryly 
for  his  society,  and  reject  it ;  he  was  even  angry,  for  the 
reason  that  he  had  determined  to  tell  her  not  only  some- 
thing about  her  husband,  but  something  from  himself. 
But  she  inclined  her  head  in  agreement;  she,  too,  had  her 
plan.  So  much  bitter  dislike  for  Pan  Stanislav  and  such 
a  feeling  of  offence  had  been  rising  in  her  heart  for  a  long 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  627 

time,  that,  thinking  him  likely  to  take  advantage  again  of 
a  moment  which  they  were  to  pass  together,  she  determined 
to  give  him  a  slap  which  he  would  remember  for  many  a 
day. 

liut  she  was  mistaken  altogether.  First,  through  her 
he  had  been  crushed  as  ice  is  crushed  against  a  cliff,  and 
therefore  for  some  time  he  had  felt  for  her  not  only,  dis- 
lilce,  but  even  hatred.  Second,  if  later,  through  a  feeling 
of  conviction  that  the  fault  was  on  his  side  exclusively, 
that  liatred  had  passed,  then  he  had  changed  so  much  that 
he  had  become  almost  entirely  another  man.  His  mercan- 
tile reckoning  with  himself  had  taught  him  that  such 
transgressions  are  paid  for  too  dearly ;  he  was  in  a  phase 
of  immense  desire  for  a  life  without  deceit;  and  finally 
remorse  and  son-ow  had  eaten  up  desire  in  him  as  rust  eats 
up  iron.  When  assisting  her  into  the  carriage,  and  when 
he  touched  her  shoulder,  he  remained  calm  ;  and  when  he 
had  taken  his  seat,  he  began  at  once  to  speak  of  Mashko, 
for  he  judged  that  through  a  feeling  of  humanity  alone  he 
ought  to  prepare  her  for  the  coming  catastrophe,  and  soften 
its  significance. 

"I  wonder  at  the  daring  of  your  husband,"  said  he. 
"  Let  one  bridge  fall  on  the  road  during  his  stay  in  Berlin, 
he  will  not  be  able  to  return  to  the  will  case,  on  which,  as 
you  know,  of  course,  all  his  fate  depends.  He  must  have 
gone  for  important  reasons ;  but  it  is  always  hazardous  to 

"  The  bridges  are  strong,"  answered  Pani  Mashko. 

But  he,  unconquered  by  that  not  over-encouraging  answer, 
spoke  on,  drawing  aside  before  her  gradually  the  curtain 
of  the  future :  and  he  spoke  so  long  that  while  he  was  talk- 
ing  they  arrived  before  the  Mashko  dwelling,  fhen  she, 
not  understanding  the  meaning  of  his  words  evidently,  and 
angry,  perhaps,  that  she  had  not  had  the  chance  to  give 
him  the  intended  blow,  said,  when  she  had  stepped  out  of 
the  carriage,  —  ...       ...  „„ 

"  Had  you  any  personal  object  m  disquieting  me  ? 

"No,"  answered  Pan  Stanislav,  who  saw  that  the  moment 
had  come  to  tell  her  that  which  he  had  resolved  to  say 
from  himself.  "  In  relation  to  you,  I  h^^%«"Jy  f  ^^^j^Jf,'^ 
-to  declare  that,  with  reference  to  you,  I  ^^^^ jf  "^^^ 
unworthily,   and  that  from   my   whole  soul  I  beg    your 

^'pr'the   young    woman    went  into  her  house  without 


628  CHILDREN   OF  THE   SOIL. 

answering  a  single  word.  Pan  Stanislav,  to  the  end  of 
his  life,  did  not  know  whether  that  was  the  silence  of 
hatred  or  forgiveness. 

Still  he  returned  home  with  a  certain  encouragement, 
for  it  seemed  to  him  that  he  ought  to  have  acted  thus.  In 
his  eyes  that  was  a  small  act  of  penitence;  it  was  all  one 
to  him  how  Pani  Mashko  understood  him.  "Maybe  she 
judged,"  said  he  to  himself,  "that  I  begged  pardon  of  her 
for  my  subsequent  treatment;  in  every  case  1  shall  be  able 
to  look  her  more  boldly  in  the  eyes  now." 

And  in  that  thought  of  his  there  was  undoubtedly  some 
selfishness ;  but  there  was  also  the  will  to  escape  from  the 
toils. 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  629 


CHAPTER  LXIV. 

Panna  Helena,  also,  before  her  departure,  received  a 

letter  from  Pani  Brouich,  in  the  style  of  that  which  Marynia 
had  received,  and,  like  Marynia,  she  did  not  show  it  to  Pan 
Ignas.  Besides,  Pan  Ignas  went  away  with  Svirski  a  week 
later  without  visiting  any  acquaintance  except  Panna 
Katkovski.  Svirski,  in  person,  kept  him  from  all  visits; 
and  Pan  Stanislav,  in  conversations  with  his  wife,  declared 
that  he  had  acted  rightly.  "At  present,"  said  he,  "it 
would  be  disagreeable  both  for  Ignas,  and  for  us.  Those 
who  saw  him  every  day  are  different,  for  they  are  used  to 
him ;  but  no  one  else  could  refrain  from  looking  at  the  scar 
which  is  left  on  his  forehead.  Besides,  Ignas  has  changed 
very  much.  During  the  journey  he  will  recover  perfectly; 
on  his  return  we  shall  receive  him  as  if  nothing  had  hap- 
pened; and  strangers  will  see  in  him,  above  all,  a  wealthy 
young  lord." 

And  it  might  have  been  so  in  reality.  But  meanwhile, 
there  was  loneliness  around  the  Polanyetskis,  because  oif 
that  departure.  Their  circle  of  acquaintances  had  scat- 
tered on  all  sides.  Osnovski  remained  still  in  Brussels; 
where  Pani  Aneta  had  gone  no  one  knew.  Pani  Brouich 
and  Panna  Castelli  were  in  Paris;  there  was  no  one  at 
Yasmen.  Pani  Kraslavski  and  her  daughter  shut  them- 
selves in,  and  lived  only  for  each  other;  and  finally  sick- 
ness had  confined  to  her  bed  poor  Pani  Emilia,  once  and 
forever. 

There  remained  only  the  Bigiels  and  the  professor.  But 
he  was  sick,  too,  and,  moreover,  he  had  become  so  peculiar 
that  strangers  considered  him  a  lunatic.  Some  said  with 
a  certain  irony  that  a  man  who  thinks  that  the  spirit  of 
Christianity  will  penetrate  into  politics  as  it  has  into  pri- 
vate life,  must  be  indeed  of  sound  mind.  He  began  himself 
to  tliink  about  death,  and  to  make  preparations  for  it. 
Frequently  he  repeated  to  Pan  Stanislav  his  desire  to  die 
"in  the  ante-chamber  to  the  other  world,"  and  i"Jiew  of 
that  was  preparing  for  Eome.  But  since  he  loved  Marynia 
greatly,  he  wished  to  wait  till  after  her  sickness. 


*630  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOITi." 

In  this  way  time  passed  in  great  seclusion  for  the  Po- 
lanyetskis.  It  was  for  that  matter  necessary  for  Marynia, 
who  in  recent  days  had  felt  very  ill,  and  necessary  for  her 
state  of  feeling.  Pan  Stanislav  worked  over  business  in  the 
counting-house,  and  over  himself;  he  was  working  out  in 
himself  a  new  man,  and  watching  over  his  wife.  She,  too, 
was  preparing  herself  for  a  new  epoch  in  life ;  and  she  was 
preparing  herself  gladly,  for  it  seemed  to  her  that  what 
she  did  would  act  upon  both  of  them.  Pan  Stanislav  be- 
came daily  less  absolute  in  some  way,  more  condescending 
in  his  judgments  of  people,  and  milder,  not  only  in  rela- 
tion to  her,  but  in  relation  to  all  persons  with  whom  life 
brought  him  into  contact.  He  surrounded  her  with  excep- 
tional, with  thoughtful  care ;  and  though  she  supposed  that 
this  care  had  in  view  not  so  much  her  person  as  the  child, 
she  recognized  this  as  proper,  and  was  grateful.  She  was 
astonished  at  times  by  a  kind  of  timidity  and,  as  it  were, 
hesitation  in  his  treatment  of  her;  but  not  being  able  to 
divine  that  he  was  simply  curbing  his  feeling  for  her,  she 
ascribed  such  exhibitions  to  "  Stas's "  fear  as  to  whether 
all  would  end  well  in  her  case. 

Whole  weeks  passed  in  this  manner.  Their  monotony 
was  broken  sometimes  by  a  letter  from  Svirski,  who,  when 
he  could  seize  a  free  moment,  reported  what  he  could  of 
himself  and  Pan  Ignas.  In  one  of  those  letters  he  inquired 
in  Pan  Ignas's  name  if  Pani  Polanyetski  would  permit  him 
to  send  a  description  of  his  impressions  in  the  form  of 
letters  to  her.  "  I  spoke  with  him  of  this  in  detail,"  wrote 
Svirski.  "  He  contends  first  that  it  might  be  agreeable  to 
the  lady  to  have  echoes  from  a  land  which  has  left  her  so 
many  pleasant  memories ;  and  second,  that  it  would  lighten 
his  work  greatly  were  he  to  write  as  if  privately.  He  is 
well ;  he  walks,  eats,  and  sleeps  perfectly.  Every  evening 
I  see  too  that  he  sits  at  his  desk  and  prepares  to  Avrite. 
I  concluded  that  he  was  trying  poetry,  also.  Somehow 
it  does  not  succeed,  for  he  has  not  written  anything 
yet,  so  far  as  I  know.  I  suppose,  however,  that  all  will 
come  out  by  degrees,  and  in  season.  Meanwhile  the  form 
of  letters  would  lighten  his  work,  perhaps,  reall}-.  I  will 
add  in  conclusion  that  he  mentions  Panna  Helena  with 
immense  gratitude ;  and  at  every  mention  of  Panna  Eat- 
kovski,  his  eyes  become  bright.  I  speak  of  her  to  him 
frequently,  for  what  can  I,  poor  man,  do  ?  When  anything 
is  not  predestined,  there  is  no  help  in  the  case ;  and  when 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  631 

it  is  written  down  to  a  man  that  he  must  remain  like  a 
stake  in  a  hedge,  he  will  not  put  forth  leaves  in  spring 
even." 

In  the  middle  of  November  a  letter  came  from  Rome 
which  roused  much  thought  in  the  Polanyetskis.  Svirski 
wrote  as  follows  :  — 

"Imagine  to  yourselves  that  Pani  Bronlch  is  here  and  Panna 
Castelli,  and  that  I  have  had  an  interview  with  them.  In  Rome  I 
am  as  if  at  home ;  hence  I  learned  of  their  coming  on  the  second  dav. 
And  do  you  know  what  I  did  immediately?  I  jiersmided  l^nas  to 
go  to  Sicily,  in  which,  moreover,  I  found  no  great  difficulty.  I 
thought  to  myself,  '  he  will  sit  in  Syracuse  or  in  Taoimina;  and' if  hy 
bhance  he  falls  into  the  hands  of  the  Mafia  the  cost  of  his  ransom 
will  be  less  than  what  he  paid  for  the  privilege  of  wearing  Panna 
Nitechka's  ring  for  a  short  time.'  I  said  to  myself,  '  if  he  and  she 
are  to  meet  on  earth  and  be  reconciled,  let  them  meet  and  lie  recon- 
ciled ;  but  I  have  no  wish  to  take  that  work  on  my  conscience,  espe- 
cially after  what  has  happer.ed.'  Ignas  is  well  to  all  seeming ;  but  he 
has  not  recovered  yet  mentally,  and  in  that  state  he  might  be  brought 
easily  to  something  which  he  would  regret  for  a  lifetime.  As  to 
those  ladies,  I  divined  at  once  why  they  came  here,  and  I  was  de- 
lighted in  soul  that  I  had  hindered  their  tricks  ;  that  my  supposition 
was  to  the  point  is  shown  by  this,  that  some  days  later  a  letter  came 
to  Ignas,  on  which  I  recognized  the  handwriting  of  the  widow  of  that 
heaven-dwelling  Teodor.  I  wrote  on  the  envelope  that  Pan  Ignaa 
had  gone  away,  it  was  unknown  whither,  and  sent  the  letter  retro. 

"  That,  however,  was  only  the  beginning  of  the  history.  Next 
morning  I  received  a  letter  with  an  invitation  to  a  talk.  I  answered 
that  I  must  refuse  with  regret ;  that  my  occupations  do  not  permit  me 
to  give  myself  such  a  pleasure.  In  answer  to  this,  I  received  a 
second  letter  with  an  appeal  to  my  character,  my  tnlent,  my  descent, 
my  heart,  my  sympathy  for  an  unhappy  woman  :  and  with  the  prayer 
that  I  should  either  go  myself,  or  appoint  an  hour  in  my  studio. 
There  was  no  escape,  —  I  went.  Pani  Bronich  herself  received  me 
with  tears,  and  a  whole  torrent  of  narratives  which  I  shall  not 
repeat,  but  in  which  '  Nitechka '  appears  as  a  Saint  Agnes  the 
martyr.  '  With  what  can  I  serve,'  ask  I  ?  She  answers :  ♦  It  is 
not  a  question  of  anything,  but  a  kind  word  from  Pan  Ignas.  The 
child  is  sick,  she  is  coughing,  in  all  likelihood  she  will  not  live  the 
year  out;  but  she  wants  to  die  with  a  word  of  forgiveness.'  At  tins 
1  confess  that  I  was  softened  a  little,  but  I  held  out.  Moreover,  I 
could  not  "-ive  the  address  of  Pan  Ignas,  for  I  did  not  know  really 
at  what  hotel  he  had  stopped.  I  was  sweating  as  in  a  steam  bath; 
and  at  last  I  promised  something  in  general,  that  if  Ignas  would 
begin  at  any  time  to  talk  with  me  about  Panna  Castelli,  that  1 
would  persuade  him  to  act  in  accordance  with  the  wish  ot  lam 

Bronich.  ,  ,  .  ,  .        e      •       t>_„„- 

«  But  this  was  not  all  yet..    When  I  was  thinking  of  going,  Panna 


632  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

Lineta  herself  rushed  in  on  a  sudden,  and  turned  to  her  aunt  with 
the  request  to  let  her  talk  with  me  alone.  I  will  say  in  parenthesis 
that  she  has  grown  thin^  and  that  she  seems  taller  than  usual,  really 
like  '  a  poplar,'  which  any  wind  might  break.  Hardly  were  we 
left  alone  when  she  turned  to  me  and  said,  '  Aunt  is  trying  to  make 
me  innocent,  and  is  doing  so  through  love  for  me.  I  am  thankful  to 
her ;  but  I  cannot  endure  it,  and  I  declare  to  you  that  I  am  guilty, 
that  I  am  not  worthy  of  anything,  and  that  if  I  am  unhappy  I  have 
deserved  it  a  hundred  times.'  When  I  heard  this  I  was  astonished; 
but  I  saw  that  she  was  talking  sincerely,  for  her  lips  were  quivering 
and  her  eyes  were  mist-covered.  You  may  say  to  yourselves  that  I 
have  a  heart  made  of  butter ;  but  I  confess  that  I  was  moved  greatly, 
and  I  inquired  what  I  could  do  for  her.  To  this  she  answered  that 
I  could  do  nothing ;  but  she  begged  me  to  believe  at  least  that  she 
took  no  part  in  those  efforts  of  her  aunt  to  renew  relations,  that 
after  Pan  Ignas's  act  her  eyes  were  opened  to  what  she  had  done, 
and  that  she  would  never  forget  it  in  her  life.  At  last  she  said  once 
again,  that  she  alone  was  the  cause  of  everything,  and  begged  me  to 
repeat  our  conversation  to  Pan  Ignas,  not  immediately,  however,  but 
only  when  he  could  not  suspect  that  she  wished  to  influence  him. 

"  Well,  and  what  do  you  think  ?  Would  you  lend  belief  to  anything 
like  that  ?  I  see  clearly  two  things,  first,  that  Pan  Ignas's  attempt 
on  his  life,  happen  what  may,  must  have  shaken  her  terribly ;  and 
second,  that  she  is  fabulously  unhappy,  —  who  knows,  she  may  be  sick 
really.  So  the  opinion  of  Panna  Helena  comes  to  my  mind,  who, 
as  you  repeated  to  me,  says  that  we  must  not  despair  of  a  man  while 
he  is  living.  In  every  case  it  is  something  uncommon.  I  believe 
too  that  even  if  Pan  Ignas  wished  now  to  return  to  her,  she  would 
not  consent,  simply  because  she  does  not  feel  that  she  is  worthy  of 
him.  As  to  me,  I  think  that  there  are  many  better  and  nobler 
female  natures  than  hers  in  the  world ;  but  may  the  deuce  take  me  if 
I  act  against  her ! '' 

In  continuation  Svirski  inquired  about  health,  and  sent 
obeisances  to  the  Bigiels. 

This  letter  made  a  great  impression  on  all,  and  was  the 
occasion  of  numerous  discussions  between  the  Polanyetskis 
and  the  Bigiels.  It  appeared  at  once  too  how  far  Pan 
Stanislav  was  changed.  Formerly  he  would  not  have  found 
words  enough  to  condemn  Panna  Castelli,  and  never  would 
he  have  believed  that  any  chord  of  honor  would  make  itself 
heard  in  a  woman  of  her  kind ;  but  at  present,  when  Pani 
Bigiel,  who,  as  well  as  the  other  ladies,  belonged  soul  and 
body  to  Panna  Ratkovski's  side,  expressed  doubts,  and  said, 
"Is  not  that  merely  a  change  of  tactics  on  the  part  of 
Panna  Castelli?"  he  said,  — 

"No;  she  is  too  young  for  that,  and  she  seems  to  me 
sincere.     It  is  a  great  thing  if  she  acknowledges  her  fault 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  633 

SO  unconditionally,  for  it  proves  that  untruth  in  life  has 
•disgusted  her." 

After  a  moment's  hesitation,  he  added,  — 

"  I  remember,  for  example,  that  more  than  once  Mashko 
acknowledged,  as  it  were,  that  he  was  going  by  a  wrong  and 
false  road  ;  but  right  away  he  sought  reasons  to  justify  him- 
self :  '  With  us  it  is  necessary  to  do  so ; '  '  Tliat  is  the  fault 
of  our  society  ; '  '  I  pay  with  the  money  that  is  current.' 
How  much  of  this  have  I  heard  !  And  that  was  all  untrue, 
too.  Meanwhile  there  is  a  certain  bravery  in  declaring, 
It  is  my  fault  absolutely.  And  whoso  has  that  bravery  has 
something  left  yet." 

"Then  do  you  judge  that  Pan  Ignas  would  do  well  to 
return  to  her  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  judge  at  all,  nor  do  I  suppose  that  it  could 
happen." 

But  the  living  interest  roused  by  news  from  Home,  to- 
getlier  with  anxiety  for  Pan  Ignas  and  Panua  Castelli, 
passed  away  soon,  under  the  pressure  of  a  more  import- 
ant anxiety,  which  was  hanging  over  the  house  of  tlie 
Polanyetskis. 

Toward  the  end  of  November  Marynia's  health  began  to  fail 
evidently.  It  had  been  failing  for  some  time,  but  she  con- 
cealed this  fact  as  long  as  possible.  A  painful  palpitation  of 
the  heart  came  on  her,  and  weakness  so  great  that  there  were 
days  when  she  could  not  move  out  of  an  armchair.  Next 
came  pains  in  her  back  and  giddiness.  In  the  course  of  a 
week  she  changed  so  much  in  the  eyes,  and  grew  thin  to 
such  a  degree,  that  even  the  doctors,  who  up  to  that  time 
had  considered  those  symptoms  as  the  ordinary  forerunners 
of  approaching  labor,  began  to  be  alarmed  at  them.  Her 
transparent  face  assumed  at  times  a  bluish  tinge;  and 
seemed,  especially  when  the  sick  woman  kept  her  eyes 
closed,  like  the  face  of  a  dead  person.  Even  Pani  Bigiel, 
the  greatest  optimist  near  Marynia,  could  not  at  last  resist 
fears  ;  the  doctor  declared  to  Pan  Stanislav  plainly  tliat  under 
such  conditions  the  expected  event  might  be  dangerous, 
both  in  itself  and  in  sequences.  Marynia,  though  weaker 
every  day  and  more  exhausted,  was  indeed  the  only  one 
■who  did  not  lose  hope  now. 

But  Pan  Stanislav  lost  it.  Such  a  grievous  tune  came 
on  him  that  all  sufPerings  and  misfortunes  which  hitherto 
in  life  he  had  gone  through  seemed  to  him  nothing  in 
comparison  with  his  terrible  dread,  which  often  and  often 


634  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

became  utter  despair.  Formerly  after  his  wedding,  in  his 
conceptions  of  marriage  and  his  hopes  of  the  future,  a  child  _ 
was  the  main  thing ;  now  for  the  first  time  he  felt  that  he " 
would  give  not  only  one,  but  all  the  children  that  he  could 
ever  have,  to  save  that  one  beloved  Marynia.  And  his 
heart  was  cut  when  at  times  Marynia  repeated  with  her 
weakened  voice  the  question  which  before  she  had  asked 
more  than  once,  "  Stas,  but  if  it  is  a  boy  ?  "  He  would 
have  been  glad  to  fall  at  her  feet,  embrace  them,  and  say, 
"  Let  the  devil  take  it,  boy  or  girl,  if  only  thou  art  left ; " 
but  he  had  to  smile  at  her,  and  assure  her  calmly  that  it 
was  all  one  to  him.  His  former  terrors  fell  upon  him 
again ;  and  that  hope,  roused  by  Marynia's  words,  that  by 
God's  favor  a  wave  of  evil  returns  as  remorse  only,  was 
dissipated  without  a  trace.  Now,  at  moments,  he  had  again 
the  feeling  that  Marynia's  sickness  might  be  just  that 
returning  wave.  How  it  might  be  that  wave  he  could  not 
tell,  for  in  vain  did  reason  say  to  him  that  between  the 
orfence  of  Pani  Osnovski  or  of  Panna  Castelli,  for  example, 
and  the  punishment  which  met  them,  there  is  an  immediate 
connection  which  there  is  not  in  his  case.  Fear  answered 
him,  that  evil  may  filter  through  life  by  such  secret  chan- 
nels that  the  reason  of  man  cannot  follow  it.  And  at  this 
thought  a  dread  seized  him  that  was  simply  mysterious.  A 
man  in  misfortune  loses  power  of  accurate  reasoning;  he 
lives  under  the  weight  of  terror,  and  under  such  a  weight 
was  Pan  Stanislav  living.  He  saw  only  the  precipice,  and 
his  own  helplessness.  More  than  once,  while  looking  at  the 
haggard  face  of  Marynia,  he  said  to  himself,  "  One  must 
be  mad  to  suppose  that  she  may  not  die ; "  and  he  sought 
desperately  on  the  faces  of  those  surrounding  her  for  even  a 
shade  of  hope,  and  with  every  drop  of  his  blood,  with  every 
atom  of  his  brain,  with  his  whole  soul  and  heart,  he  rose 
up  against  her  death.  It  seemed  to  him  an  inconceivable 
injustice  that  she  will  have  to  close  her  eyes  forever  before 
he  can  show  her  how  he  loves  her  beyond  every  estimate ; 
before  he  rewards  her  for  all  his  carelessness,  harsh  treat- 
ment, egotism,  and  faithlessness;  before  he  tells  her  that 
she  has  become  the  soul  of  his  soul,  something  not  only 
loved  above  all  in  his  life,  but  revered.  He  repeated  to 
himself  that  if  God  would  not  do  this  for  him  He  ought  to 
do  it  for  her,  so  that  in  going  from  the  world  she  might 
leave  it  with  a  feeling  at  least  of  that  happiness  which  she 
had  deserved.     From  these  insolent  suggestions  to  God  of 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  635 

how  He  ought  to  act,  he  passed  again  to  compunction,  to 
humility,  and  to  prayer.  But  meanwhile  Marynia  was 
daily  more  and  more  dangerously  ill,  and  he,  between  two 
despairs,  one  of  which  shouted,  "  This  cannot  be,"  and  the 
other,  "It  must  be,"  —  he  struggled  as  if  in  a  vice. 

Finall}^,  from  necessity,  from  the  fear  of  taking  hope 
from  Marynia,  he  was  forced  to  pretend  in  her  presence 
that  he  paid  little  attention  to  her  sickness.  And  the  doc- 
tor and  Paiii  Bigiel  warned  him  daily  not  to  alarm  her;  his 
own  reason  indicated  the  same  to  him.  And  here  was  a 
new  torture,  since  it  came  to  his  mind  that  she  might  look 
on  this  as  a  lack  of  feeling,  and  die  with  the  conviction  that 
he  had  never  loved  her.  Thus  everything  was  changed  in 
him  utterly.  Sleeplessness,  torment,  and  alarm  brought 
him  to  a  kind  of  sickly  exaltation,  in  which  even  the  dan- 
ger, which  of  itself  was  too  evident,  he  saw  in  a  still  higher 
degree.  It  seemed  to  him  that  there  was  no  hope,  and  at 
times  he  thought  of  Marynia  as  if  already  dead.  For 
whole  days  he  was  thinking  over  every  good  point  of  her 
character,  —  her  words,  her  kindness,  her  calmness.  He 
reraeml)ered  how  all  loved  her,  and  he  reproached  himself 
desperately,  saying  that  he  had  never  been  worthy  of  her, 
that  he  had  not  loved  her  sufficiently,  that  he  had  not 
valued  her  enough,  and,  to  crown  all,  had  broken  faith 
with  her;  and  therefore  he  must  lose  her,  and  lose  her 
deservedly. 

And  in  the  feeling  that  a  thing  so  terrible  was  also 
deserved,  and  that  it  was  too  late  for  any  correction,  was 
something  simply  heart-rending.  Even  persons  who  during 
life  were  always  loved  greatly,  when  they  go  from  this 
world,  leaving  their  friends  in  sorrow  because  they  did  not 
love  the  departed  enough,  leave  behind,  of  all  sorrows,  that 
which  is  sorest. 

At  the  beginning  of  December,  Svirski  and  Pan  Ignas 
returned,  after  two  months'  journey,  from  Italy.  Pan  Stan- 
islav  had  grown  so  thin  and  haggard  in  that  interval  that 
they  hardly  knew  him  ;  and  he,  quite  sunk  in  misery, 
turned  scarcely  any  attention  to  them,  and  listened  as  in  a 
dream  to  words  of  hope  and  consolation  from  both,  as  'well 
as  narratives,  with  which  the  honest  artist  tried  to  divert 
his  suffering  mind.  What  did  he  care  now  for  P^"  J^"''^; 
Pani  Bronich,  Panna  Castelli,  in  face  of  the  fact  that 
Marynia  might  die  anv  day?  Svirski,  who  had  immense 
friendship  for  him,  wishing  to  find  from  some  point  a  little 


636  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

hope,  betook  himself  to  Pani  Bigiel ;  but  even  she  had  not 
much  hope  to  offer.  The  doctors  themselves  did  not 
know  well  what  the  trouble  was,  for  to  her  condition  were 
added  various  complications,  which  could  not  be  defined 
even.  It  was  only  known  that  the  heart  of  the  sick  woman 
acted  irregularly ;  they  feared  above  all  that,  as  a  result  of 
defective  circulation,  some  coagulation  in  the  veins  might 
result,  which  would  cause  sudden  death.  Besides,  even  in 
case  of  a  happy  delivery,  they  feared  a  number  of  things,  — 
exhaustion,  loss  of  strength,  and  all  those  results  which 
come  only  later.  Svirski  convinced  himself  that  Pani 
Bigiel  did  not  deceive  herself  either  when,  at  the  end  of 
the  conversation,  she  fell  into  tears,  and  said,  — 

"Poor  Marynia!  but  he,  poor  man  too.  If  even  a  child 
should  be  left  him,  he  might  find  strength  to  bear  the 
blow." 

And  when  she  had  dried  her  tears,  she  added,  — 
"  As  it  is,  I  do  not  understand  how  he  endures  it  all." 
That  was  true ;  Pan  Stanislav  did  not  eat  and  did  not 
sleep.  He  had  not  shown  himself  at  the  counting-house 
for  a  long  time  ;  he  went  out  only  for  flowers,  which  Marynia 
loved  always,  and  the  sight  of  which  cheered  her.  But  she 
was  so  sick  that  whenever  he  went  for  a  bunch  of  chrysan- 
themums he  returned  with  the  terrible  thought  that  perhaps 
he  was  bringing  it  for  her  coffin,  Marynia's  own  eyes 
opened  to  this,  —  that  perhaps  her  death  was  coming.  She 
did  not  wish  to  speak  of  this  to  her  husband ;  but  before 
Pani  Bigiel  she  fell  to  weeping  one  day  in  grief  for  her  own 
life  and  for  "  Stas."  She  was  tortured  bj^  the  thought, 
how  would  he  bear  it,  for  she  wanted  that  he  should  be 
awfully  sorry  for  her,  and  at  the  same  time,  that  he 
should  not  suffer  much.  Before  him  she  pretended  yet  a 
long  time  to  feel  sure  that  all  would  end  happily. 

But  later,  when  fainting  spells  came,  she  summoned 
courage  to  talk  with  him  openly ;  this  seemed  to  her  a  duty. 
Therefore  one  night,  when  Pani  Bigiel,  overcome  by  drow- 
siness, went  to  sleep,  and  he  was  watching  near  her  as  usual, 
she  stretched  her  hand  to  him,  and  said,  — 

"  Stas,  I  wanted  to  talk  with  thee,  and  beg  for  one  thing." 
"  What  is  it,  my  love  ?  "  asked  Pan  Stanislav. 
She  thought  for  a  time  evidently  how  to  express  her 
prayer ;  and  then  she  began  to  speak,  — 

"  Promise  me  —  I  know  that  I  shall  recover  surely  —  but 
promise  me  that  should  it  be  a  boy,  thou  wilt  love  and  be 
kind." 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  637 

Pan  Stanislav,  by  a  superhuman   effort,  restrained  the 
sobbing  which  seized  his  breast,  and  said  calmly,  — 

"  My  dear  love,  I  will  always  love  thee  and  him,  be  sure  " 
Thereupon  Marynia  tried  to  raise  his  hand  to  her  lips 
but  from  weakness  she  was  not  able  to  do  so  ;  then  she 
smiled  at  hiin  from  thankfulness.  And  again  she  said 
"Do  not  think  that  I  suppose  for  a  moment  anything 
terrible,  not  at  all !  but  I  should  like  to  confess." 

A  shiver  went  through  Pan  Stanislav  from  head  to  feet, 
"Well,  my  child,"  answered  he,  with  a  voice  of  fear,  and 
as  it  were  not  his  own  voice. 

And,  recollecting  that  once  her  expression  "  service  of 
God  "  pleased  him,  and  wishing  to  let  him  know  that  it 
was  not  the  question  of  anything  else  here  but  the  per- 
formance of  ordinary  religious  duties,  she  repeated,  with 
an  almost  glad  smile,  — 
"  The  service  of  God." 

The  confession  took  place  next  morning.  Pan  Stanislav 
was  so  sure  that  that  was  the  end  that  he  was  almost 
astonished  because  Marynia  was  alive  yet,  and  because  she 
was  even  a  little  better  in  the  evening. 

He  did  not  dare  to  admit  hope  into  his  soul.  But  she 
became  brighter,  and  said  that  she  breathed  more  easily. 
About  midnight  she  began  the  usual  warfare  with  him 
about  his  going  to  rest.  Indeed,  from  trouble  of  mind  and 
toil  he  looked  not  much  better  than  she  did.  He  refused 
at  first,  contending  that  he  had  slept  in  the  daytime,  and 
that  he  was  refreshed,  which  was  not  true  ;  but  she  insisted 
absolutely.  He  yielded  all  the  more  that  there  was  a  special 
woman  and  Pani  Bigiel,  besides  the  doctor,  who  for  a  week 
had  slept  in  their  house,  and  who  assured  him  now  that 
for  the  time  there  was  no  reason  to  expect  any  turn  for 
the  worse. 

But  when  he  went  out,  he  did  as  he  did  usually;  that 
is,  he  sat  in  an  armchair  at  the  door,  and  began  to  listen 
to  what  was  happening  in  the  room.  In  this  way  the 
hours  of  night  passed.  At  the  least  noise  he  sprang  up ; 
but  when  the  noise  ceased  he  sat  down  again  and  began  to 
think  hurriedly  and  chaotically,  as  people  do  over  whom 
danger  is  hanging.  But  at  times  his  thoughts  pressed  one 
another,  grew  confused  from  weariness,  forming,  as  it  were, 
a  dense  crowd  in  which  he  was  wandering  without  power 
to  know  anything.  Sleep  also  tortured  him.  He  had  un- 
common strength  ;  but  for  ten  days  he  knew  not  how  he 


638  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

lived.  Only  black  coffee  and  feverishness  kept  him  on  his 
feet.  He  did  not  yield  even  then,  though  his  head  was  as 
heavy  as  lead  and  the  crowd  of  his  thoughts  changed,  as 
it  were,  into  a  black  cloud,  without  a  clear  spot.  He 
merely  repeated  to  himself  yet  that  Marynia  was  sick  and 
he  ought  not  to  fall  asleep ;  but  these  words  had  not  the 
least  meaning  for  him  now. 

At  last  toil,  exhaustion,  and  sleepless  nights  conquered. 
A  stou}'  invincible  sleep  seized  him,  —  a  sleep  in  which  there 
was  no  dreaming,  in  which  reality  perished,  in  which  the 
whole  world  perished,  and  in  which  life  itself  was  be- 
numbed. 

He  was  only  roused  toward  morning  by  a  knocking  at 
the  door. 

"  Pan  Stanislav ! "  called  the  smothered  voice  of  Pani 
Bigiel. 

He  sprang  to  his  feet,  and,  gaining  consciousness  that 
moment,  ran  out 'of  that  room.  With  one  glance  he  took 
in  Marynia's  bed ;  and  at  sight  of  the  closed  curtains  his 
feet  tottered  under  him. 

"  What  has  happened  ? "  whispered  he,  with  whitening 
lips. 

But  Pani  Bigiel  answered  with  a  voice  equally  low,  pant- 
ing a  trifle,  — 

"  You  have  a  son." 

And  she  put  her  finger  on  her  lips. 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  6S9 


CHAPTER  LXV. 

There  were  grievous  days  yet,  and  very  grievous.  Such 
weakness  came  on  Marynia  that  her  life  began  to  quiver, 
like  the  flame  of  a  taper.  Would  it  quench,  or  would  it 
flicker  up  again  ?  At  moments  all  were  convinced  that 
the  flame  was  just,  just  dying.  Still  youth,  and  the  reliei 
brought  by  the  coming  of  a  child  to  the  world,  turned  the 
scale  on  the  life  side.  On  a  certain  day  the  sick  woman 
woke  after  long  sleep,  and  seemed  healthier.  The  old 
doctor  in  attendance,  who  witnessed  the  improvement, 
wished  to  convince  himself  more  clearly  that  there  was  no 
deception,  and  asked  to  call  in  a  physician  with  whom  he 
had  held  counsel  earlier.  Pan  Stanislav  went  to  find  hira, 
and  drove  himself  out  of  his  mind  almost  while  searching 
the  city  half  a  day  for  him  ;  he  did  not  dare  hope  yet  that 
that  turn  in  her  sickness  and  in  his  misfortune  was  de- 
cisive. When  at  last  he  found  the  hunted  doctor  and 
brought  hira  to  the  house,  Pani  Bigiel  received  him  in  the 
room  adjoining  the  sick  chamber,  with  moist  eyelids,  but 
with  a  glad  face,  and  said,  — 

"She  is  better!  decidedly  better." 

The  woman  could  not  say  more,  for  tears  flowed  from 
her  eyes.  Pan  Stanislav  grew  pale  from  emotion;  but  she 
controlled  her  delight  with  an  effort,  and  said,  smiling 
through  her  tears,  — 

"  She  is  fighting  for  food  now.  A  while  since  she  asked 
to  have  the  child  brought.  She  asked  also  why  you  did 
not  come.  But  now  she  is  fighting  for  food  ;  and  how  she 
is  fighting !     Ah,  praise  be  to  God  !     Praise  be  to  God  !  " 

And  in  her  excitement  she  threw  her  arms  around  Pan 
Stanislav ;  then  he  kissed  her  hand  and  did  not  take  it  from 
his  mouth  for  a  long  time.  He  trembled  in  every  limb  in 
the  struggle  to  repress  his  delight,  and  also  the  groans 
which  had  gathered  in  him  through  many  days  of  dread 
and  torture,  and  which  sought  to  burst  forth  now  in  spite 
of  every  effort.  .         j      x.      i.t 

Meanwhile  the  doctors  came  to  Marynia,  and  sat  rather 
long  at  her  bedside.  When  the  consultation  was  over, 
and  they  appeared  again,  satisfaction  was  evident  on  their 


640  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

faces.  After  Pan  Stanislav's  feverish  inquiry,  the  doctor 
in  regular  attendance,  an  impetuous  old  man,  with  gold- 
rimmed  glasses  on  his  nose,  and  a  golden  heart  in  his 
breast,  happy  himself  now,  but  greatly  wearied,  said, 
grumbling,  — 

"  How  is  she  ?     Go  and  thank  God,  —  that  is  what !  " 

And  Pan  Stanislav  went.  Even  had  he  been  a  man  with- 
out belief,  he  would  have  gone  at  that  moment,  and 
thanked  God  with  a  heart  swollen  from  tears  and  thank- 
fulness, for  having  taken  pity  on  him  and  let  the  wave 
return  in  the  guise  of  pain  and  suffering,  and  not  in  the 
guise  of  death. 

Later,  when  he  had  calmed  himself,  he  went  on  tiptoe  to 
his  wife's  room,  where  Pani  Bigiel  was.  Marynia  was 
gazing  straight  ahead  with  gladsome  eyes,  and  at  the  first 
glance  it  was  evident  that  she  was  much  better  really. 
When  she  saw  him,  she  said,  — 

"  Ah,  see,  Stas  —  I  am  well ! " 

"Well,  my  love,"  answered  Pan  Stanislav,  quietly.  It 
was  not  time  yet  for  outbursts ;  therefore  he  sat  down  in 
silence  near  her  bed.  But  after  a  while  joy  and  great  feel- 
ing for  her  overcame  him  so  far  that,  bending  down,  he 
embraced  with  both  hands  her  feet  covered  with  the  quilt, 
and,  putting  his  face  down  to  them,  remained  motionless. 

And  she,  though  very  weak  yet,  smiled  with  satisfaction. 
She  looked  some  time  at  him ;  then,  just  like  a  child  which 
is  happy  because  it  is  fondled,  she  said  to  Pani  Bigiel, 
pointing  with  her  transparent  finger  to  that  dark  head 
nestled  at  her  feet,  — 

"He  loves  me!  " 

Next  day  Marynia  felt  still  stronger,  and  from  that 
moment  almost  every  hour  brought  improvement.  At  last 
that  was  not  a  gradual  return  to  health,  but  a  bloom,  as 
it  were,  a  sudden  return  of  spring  after  winter,  which 
astonished  the  doctor  himself.  Pan  Stanislav  wanted  at 
moments  to  shout  from  the  joy  which  was  stifling  him,  as 
formerly  sorrow  had  stifled.  They  kept  Marynia  in  bed 
still,  through  excess  of  caution ;  but  when  her  strength, 
her  bloom,  her  wish  for  life,  her  humor,  had  returned,  she 
began  to  call  people  to  her,  and  say  every  evening  that  she 
would  rise  from  her  bed  on  the  morrow.  In  one  respect 
only  the  long  illness  and  weakness  had  brought  a  change 
in  her  manner,  which  was  to  pass,  however,  with  other 
traces  of  sickness.    This  was  it,  —  she,  who  had  been  such  a 


CHILDREN  OP  THE  SOIL.  641 

calm  and  wise  woman  formerly,  had  become  for  a  certain 
time  a  kind  of  spoiled  child,  who  insisted  on  various  things 
freqnently,  and  felt  a  real  disapix)intment  if  they  were 
refused.  Fan  Stanislav,  in  speaking  with  her,  entered 
involuntarily  into  her  tone,  hence  those  "  grimaces  "  were 
an  occasion  also  of  merriment. 

Once  she  began  to  complain  to  him  that  Pani  Bigiel 
would  not  give  her  red  wine.  Pani  Bigiel  explained  that 
she  gave  as  much  as  the  doctor  permitted,  and  must  wait 
for  permission  to  give  more.  Pan  Stanislav  set  about  com- 
forting Marynia  at  once,  speaking  to  her  just  as  he  used  to 
speak  formerly  to  Litka,  — 

"  They  will  give  the  child  wine,  —  they  will  give  it!  — 
the  moment  the  doctor  comes." 

To  which  Marynia  said,  "  Red  !  " 

"  But  how  red  must  it  be!  "  answered  Pan  Stanislav;  and 
then  both  began  to  laugh,  and  Pani  Bigiel  with  them.  As 
some  time  before,  the  fear  of  death  and  misfortune  had  hung 
over  that  room,  so  now  it  was  lighted  with  frequent  joy,  as 
with  sunlight.  At  times  they  fell  into  perfect  humor,  and 
grandfather  Plavitski  formed  part  of  the  company  too  on 
occasions.  He,  since  the  advent  to  the  world  of  his  grand- 
son, had  grown  full  of  patriarchal,  but  kindly  importance, 
which  did  not  drive  away  merriment.  It  was  varied, 
however,  for  at  times  a  lofty  and  solemn  manner  gained 
the  upper  hand  in  him.  On  a  certain  day  he  brought  his 
will,  and  forced  all  to  listen  to  its  paragraphs  from  begin- 
ning to  end.  In  the  touching  words  of  the  introduction 
he  took  farewell  of  life,  of  his  daughter,  of  Pan  Stanislav, 
and  of  his  grandson,  not  sparing  directions  regarding  the 
education  of  the  latter  into  a  good  grandson,  a  good  son, 
a  good  father,  and  a  good  citizen  ;  then  he  made  hira  heir 
of  all  he  possessed.  And  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  since 
Mashko's  bankruptcy  he  possessed  only  as  much  as  Pan 
Stanislav  gave  him,  still  he  was  moved  by  his  own  muni- 
ficence and  preserved  all  that  evening  the  mien  of  a  pelican, 
which  nourishes  its  young  with  its  own  proper  blood. 

A  person  who  returns  to  the  world  after  a  grievous  ill- 
ness passes  anew  through  all  the  periods  of  childhood  and 
first  youth,  with  this  difference  only, —that  that  which 
formerly  was  counted  by  years  is  counted  now  by  weeks, 
or  even  days.  So  it  was  with  Marynia.  Pani  Bigiel, 
who  at  first  called  her  "baby,"  said,  in  laughing,  that 
gradually  "baby"  had  changed  into  a  little  girl,  the  little 

41 


642  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 


girl  into  a  maiden.  But  the  maiden  began  to  find  her 
feminine  coquetry.  Now,  when  they  combed  her  hair,  she 
insisted  that  they  should  place  on  her  knees  a  small  mirror, 
which  she  had  received  from  her  mother;  and  she  looked 
into  it  carefully,  to  see  if  Pani  Bigiel's  promise  that 
"afterward  she  would  be  still  more  beautiful,"  was  being 
justified.  On  the  first  occasions  the  examinations  did  not 
satisfy  her  over-much,  but  afterwards  more  and  more.  At 
last  she  gav*  command  one  day  to  bring  the  mirror  again, 
after  her  hair  was  dressed;  and  once  more  she  made  a 
thorough  review  of  her  complexion,  her  eyes,  her  mouth, 
her  hair,  her  expression,  —  in  a  word,  of  everything  which 
there  was  to  look  at.  And  the  review  must  have  turned 
out  well,  for  she  began  to  smile,  and  grow  radiant;  at  last 
she  turned  toward  Pan  Stanislav's  chamber,  thi'eatening 
with  her  thin  fist,  and  said,  with  a  very  aggressive 
mien,  — 

"  But  wait  now.  Pan  Stas ! " 

In  truth,  she  had  never  been  so  comely.  Her  complexion, 
always  very  pure,  had  become  still  clearer,  and  more  lily- 
like than  it  was  when  Pan  Ignas  had  lost  his  head,  and 
rhymed  from  morning  till  evening  about  it.  Besides,  the 
first  rosy  dawn  of  health  was  shining  on  her  cheeks.  Prom 
her  eyes,  from  her  mouth,  from  her  face,  which  had  grown 
smaller  after  sickness,  there  shone  a  species  of  light,  a 
rebirth  into  life,  a  spring.  It  was  a  wonderful  head 
simply,  full  of  bright  and  clear  colors,  and  at  the  same 
time  of  delicate  outline, — really  exquisite,  and,  as  Pan 
Ignas  had  expressed  himself  once,  belonging  to  the  field, 
so  wonderful  that  at  moments,  when  it  was  lying  on  the 
pillow,  and  on  its  own  dark  hair,  it  was  not  possible  to 
look  at  it  sufficiently.  That  so-called  "Pan  Stas,"  who 
saw  everything  clearly,  and  who,  according  to  the  descrip- 
tion of  Bigiel,  "could  not  move  hand  or  foot  from  love," 
did  not  need  to  "wait"  at  all.  Not  only  did  he  love  her 
now  as  a  woman  and  one  dear  to  him,  but  he  felt  for  her 
gratitude  beyond  bounds  because  she  had  not  died,  and  he 
showed  his  gratitude  by  striving  to  divine  her  thoughts. 
Marynia  had  not  even  imagined  at  any  time  that  she  would 
become  to  such  a  degree  the  motive  of  his  life,  the  sight  of 
his  eye,  the  soul  of  his  thought  and  activity.  Never  had 
it  been  disagreeable  to  them  with  each  other;  but  now, 
with  Marynia's  return  to  health,  an  unexampled  happi- 
ness, an  unexampled  delight,  came  to  their  household. 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  643 

And  young  Polanyetski,  too,  contributed  actively. 
Marynia  Avas  not  able  to  nourish  liini  herself;  and  her 
husband,  foreseeing  this,  got  a  nurse  for  his  son.  Wish- 
ing, moreover,  to  give  the  sick  woman  pleasure,  he  brought 
in  an  old  acquaintance  of  hers  in  Kremen.  She  had  served 
once  with  the  Plavitskis;  after  their  departure  she  hap- 
pened in  Yalbrykov,  and  there  a  misfortune  befell  her.  It 
was  never  known  strictly  who  the  cause  was;  but  if  it  was 
possible  to  reproach  any  of  the  greater  proprietors  with 
want  of  love  for  the  people,  it  was  not  possible  to  reproach 
Pan  Gantovski,  for  all  Yalbrykov  was  full  of  proofs  of 
how  Gantovski  loved  the  people.  Even  in  the  negotia- 
tions about  peasant  privileges  of  the  co-residents  of  Yal- 
brykov, among  other  points  raised  was  this, — that  "the 
lord  heir  rides  on  a  white  horse,  shoots  from  pistols, 
and  looks  into  the  girls'  eyes;  "  and  if  on  the  one  hand  it 
was  not  easy  to  see  what  particular  connection  the  above 
habits  of  Gantovski  had  with  the  agreements  about  peasant 
privileges,  it  became  perfectly  clear  on  the  other  that, 
thanks  to  those  habits,  Pan  Stanislav  found  with  ease  a 
nurse  for  his  son  in  Yalbrykov. 

But  as  that  was  a  youthful,  vigorous,  and  buxom  Mazo- 
vian,  the  young  man  could  only  succeed  in  her  care.  In 
general,  that  little  Polanyetski  was  a  personage  who,  from 
the  first  moment  of  his  arrival  in  the  world,  became  more 
and  more  a  lord  in  the  house,  not  counting  with  any  one, 
nor  thinking  of  anything,  save  his  own  wants  and  pleasures. 
According  to  his  metliod,  in  moments  free  from  sleep  and 
feasting,  he  occupied  himself  with  noise-making,  and  the 
development  of  his  little  lungs,  by  means  of  a  cry  which 
was  as  piercing  as  his  early  age  could  attain.  At  such 
times  he  was  brought  frequently  to  ^larynia.  On  those 
occasions  endless  sessions  began,  at  which  all  his  physical] 
and  mental  traits  were  investigated  minutely,  as  well  a.s 
every  striking  resemblance  to  his  life-givers.  It  waa 
asserted  that  he  had  the  nose  of  his  mother,  the  remark 
of  his  nurse,  that  he  had  a  nose  like  a  cat,  being  rejected 
with  remarkable  unanimity;  it  was  settled,  also,  that  he 
would  have  an  immensely  interesting  smile;  that  he  would 
be  dark,  with  brown  hair;  that  he  would  be  tall  without 
fail;  that  he  was  very  lively,  and  would  have  an  astonish- 
ing memory.  Pani  Bigiel,  while  Marynia  was  lying  in 
bed,  made,  also,  on  her  own  account,  various  discoveries, 
which  she  announced  to  all  in  general.     Once  she  rushed 


644  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

into  Marynia's  room  with  delight  and  haste  worthy  of 
every  recognition,  and  said, — 

"Imagine  to  thyself,  he  spread  out  his  little  fingers  on 
one  hand,  and  with  the  other  thou  wouldst  swear  that  he 
was  counting.     He  '11  be  a  mathematician,  beyond  doubt." 

And  Marynia  answered  in  all  seriousness,  — 

"Then  he  '11  take  after  his  father." 

Still  she  made  a  discovery  earlier,  even  with  reference 
to  date,  than  all  those  of  Pani  Bigiel, — namely,  that 
he  was  "a  dear  little  love  of  a  creature."  As  to  Pan 
Stanislav,  at  the  first  moment  he  looked  at  the  new 
acquaintance  with  astonishment  and  a  certain  distrust. 
In  his  time  he  had  wished  greatly  to  have  a  daughter,  with 
this  reason  chiefly,  that,  being  in  make-up  of  heart  a  great 
child-man,  he  imagined  that  he  could  give  all  the  tender- 
ness in  him  only  to  a  girl.  There  was  sticking  in  him,  it 
is  unknown  why,  an  idea  that  a  son  would  be  some  kind 
of  a  big  lump  of  a  fellow  with  mustaches  almost,  speaking 
in  a  bass  voice,  snorting  somewhat  like  a  horse,  whom  it 
would  not  be  worth  while  to  approach  with  tenderness,  for 
ie  would  hold  it  in  contempt.  Only  gradually,  after  look- 
ing at  this  little  figure  sleeping  on  pillows,  did  he  begin 
to  reach  the  conviction  that  not  only  was  that  no  big 
"lump  of  a  boy,"  but  simply  a  poor  little  thing,  deserving 
of  tenderness,  small,  weak,  defenceless,  needing  care  and 
love  as  much  as  any  little  girl  in  the  world.  At  last  he 
said  to  himself,  "So  he  is  that  kind  of  boy!  "  And  thence- 
forth he  became  more  and  more  tender  toward  the  little 
thing;  and  after  a  few  days  he  even  tried  to  carry  him  to 
Marynia,  which,  however,  he  did  with  such  an  amount  of 
purely  superfluous  caution,  and  also  so  awkwardly,  that  he 
brought  to  laughter,  not  only  Marynia  and  Pani  Bigiel, 
but,  with  a  loss  to  his  own  dignity,  even  the  nurse. 

And  laiighter  was  heard  now  in  the  dwelling  of  the 
Polanyetskis  from  morning  till  evening.  Both,  Avaking  in 
the  morning,  woke  with  that  happy  feeling  that  the  day 
would  bring  them  new  delight.  Bigiel,  who,  from  the 
time  that  Marynia  left  her  bed,  was  admitted  in  the  even- 
ing with  his  violoncello,  looking  at  their  life,  said  once, 
after  a  moment  of  necessary  meditation,  "  Misfortune  may 
come  to  good  people,  as  to  every  one;  but  when  it  is  well 
for  them,  as  God  lives,  it  is  better  for  no  one  else." 

And,  in  truth,  life  was  pleasant  for  them.  Marynia, 
according  to  what  she  had  heard  in  her  time  from  Pani 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  645 

Bigiel,  and  what  she  thought  herself,  judged  that  the  cause 
of  this  new  bloom  of  love  in  her  husband  was  the  child, 
which  bound  them  by  new  bonds.  One  day  she  began  even 
to  speak  of  this  to  Pan  Stanislav;  but  he  answered  with  all 
simplicity,  — 

"No;  I  give  thee  my  word!  I  love  him  in  his  way;  but 
thee  1  loved  already  fabulously  before  he  came  to  the  world, 
for  thyself,  because  thou  art  as  thou  art.  Look  around," 
said  he,  "  think  what  is  going  on  in  the  world;  and  to  whom 
can  I  compare  thee?" 

Then,  taking  her  hands,  he  began  to  kiss  them,  not  only 
with  immense  love,  but  also  with  the  greatest  respect,  and 
added,  — 

"  Thou  wilt  never  know  what  thou  art  for  me,  and  how 
1  love  thee." 

But,  nestling  up  to  him,  she  asked,  with  a  face  bright  as 
the  sun  in  heaven,  — 

"  Indeed,  Stas,  shall  I  never  know?    Try  to  tell  me." 


646  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 


CHAPTER  LXVL 

The  christening  came.     Immediately  after  his  arrival  in 

the  world,  the  young  man  had  been  baptized  with  water 
by  Pani  Bigiel,  to  whom,  impressed  by  the  sickness  of  the 
mother,  it  seemed  that  the  little  one  might  die  any  moment. 
But  he  had  not  even  thought  of  that,  and  had  waited,  in 
the  best  of  health  and  appetite,  for  the  time  of  the  solem- 
nity, in  which  he  was  to  play  the  leading  part.  Pan 
Stanislav  had  invited  all  his  acquaintances.  Besides  people 
of  the  house,  and  grandfather  Plavitski,  there  were  Pani 
Emilia,  who,  for  that  day,  had  rallied  the  remnant  of  her 
strength,  the  Bigiels,  with  the  little  Bigiels,  Professor 
Vaskovski,  Svirski,  Pan  Ignas,  and  Panna  Ratkovski.  Pani 
Polanyetski,  now  in  health,  and  happy,  looked  so  enchant- 
ing that  Svirski,  gazing  at  her,  caught  his  hair  with  both 
hands,  and  said,  with  his  usual  outspokenness, — 

"This  just  passes  every  understanding!  As  God  lives! 
a  man  might  lose  his  eyes." 

"Well,"  said  Pan  Stanislav,  puffing  with  satisfaction, 
and  with  that  conceit  evident  in  him  that  he  had  always 
seen  that  which  others  saw  only  now  for  the  first  time. 

But  Svirski  answered,  — 

"Kneel  down,  nations!     I  will  say  nothing  further." 

Marynia  was  confused  at  hearing  this,  but  flushed  with 
pleasure,  feeling  that  Svirski  was  right.  She  had,  how- 
ever, to  occupy  herself  with  the  guests  and  the  ceremony, 
and  all  the  more  since  a  certain  disorder  had  crept  in,  to 
begin  with.  The  first  couple,  Pani  Emilia  and  Bigiel, 
were  to  hold  little  Stas;  the  second  couple  were  Panna 
Ratkovski  and  Svirski.  Meanwhile,  this  last  man  began 
to  create  unexpected  difficulties,  discovering  hindrances, 
and  evading,  it  was  unknown  why.  "He  would  be  very 
glad  —  he  had  come  from  Italy  purposely  —  of  course. 
That  was  an  arranged  affair;  but  he  had  never  before  held 
a  child  at  a  christening,  therefore  he  didn't  know  if  his 
god-child  would  remain  in  good  health,  and  especially  if 
he  would  have  luck  with  women."  At  this  Pan  Stanis- 
lav laughed,  and  called  him  a  superstitious  Italian,  but 
Marynia   divined   the  trouble   more   quickly.      She   took 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  647 

advantage  of  the  moment  in  which  he  had  pushed  back 
toward  the  window  to  escape,  and  whispered,  — 

"  A  gossip  1  of  the  second  couple  is  no  hindrance  in  this 
case." 

Svirski  raised  his  eyes  to  her,  then  laughed,  showing 
his  small  sound  teeth,  and  said  on  a  sudden,  turning  to 
Panna  liatkovski,  — 

"It  is  true,  this  is  only  in  the  second  coupl^  therefore, 
I  will  serve  you." 

All  surrounded  the  little  Stas,  who,  in  the  arras  of  the 
nurse,  and  dressed  in  muslin  and  lace,  looked  valiant,  with 
his  bald  spot  and  his  staring  round  eyes,  in  which  the 
external  world  was  reflected  as  mechanically  as  in  a  mirror. 
Bigiel  took  him  now  in  his  arms,  and  the  ceremony 
began. 

Those  present  listened  with  due  attention  to  the  solemn 
sacramental  words,  but  the  young  pagan  exhibited  excep- 
tional hardness  of  heart.  First  he  began  to  kick,  so  that 
he  half  freed  himself  from  Bigiel's  arms;  later,  when 
Bigiel,  in  his  name,  renounced  the  devil  and  his  works, 
the  young  man  did  all  in  his  power  to  drown  the  words. 
It  was  only  when  he  saw,  all  at  once,  in  the  midst  of  his 
screaming,  Bigiel's  spectacles,  that  he  stopped  suddenly, 
as  if  to  let  people  know  that  if  there  are  such  astonishing 
objects  in  the  world,  it  is  a  different  thing. 

However,  the  ceremony  ended,  and  immediately  after 
they  gave  him  into  the  hands  of  the  nurse,  who  put  him 
into  a  splendid  cradle,  in  the  form  of  a  wagon,  the  gift  of 
Svirski,  and  wished  to  roll  him  out  of  the  room.  But 
Svirski,  who  never  in  his  life,  perhaps,  had  seen  so  nearly 
such  a  small  person,  and  in  whose  breast  beat  a  heart  long 
yearning  for  fatherhood,  stopped  the  nurse,  and,  bending 
down  to  the  cradle,  took  the  child  in  his  arms. 

"Carefully,  carefully!  "  cried  Pan  Stanislav,  pushing  up 
quickly. 

But  the  artist  turned  to  him,  and  said,  — 

"  Sir,  I  have  held  in  my  hands  the  works  of  Luca  della 
Eobbia." 

And,  in  fact,  he  lifted  the  little  creature,  and  began  to 
swing  him  with  as  much  dexterity  as  if  he  had  had  care 
of  children  all  his  life.  Then  he  approached  Professor 
Vaskovski,  and  asked,  — 

1  With  Panna  Ratkovski,  Svirski  wished  to  avoid  spiritual  relationship, 
a  hindrance  to  marriage. 


648  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

"Well;  what  does  the  beloved  professor  think  of  his 
young  Aryan?" 

"What?"  answered  the  old  man,  looking  with  tender- 
ness at  the  child;  "naturally,  an  Aryan,  an  Aryan  of 
purest  water." 

"And  a  coming  missionary,"  added  Pan  Stanislav. 

"He  will  not  turn  from  that  in  the  future;  he  will  not 
evade,  just  as  you  cannot  evade,"  answered  the  professor. 

It  was  not  possible,  in  fact,  to  prejudge  the  future ;  but 
for  the  moment  the  young  Aryan  avoided  all  missions  in  a 
manner  so  unmistakable,  and  simply  insulting,  that  it  was 
necessary  to  give  him  to  the  nurse.  The  ladies,  however, 
did  not  cease  to  smack  their,  lips  at  him,  and  to  be  charmed 
with  him,  until  they  came  to  a  decisive  conclusion  that  he 
was  a  perfectly  exceptional  child,  that  his  whole  bearing 
showed  this  clearly,  and  that  any  one  must  be  without  eyes 
not  to  see  that  that  would  be  the  nicest  man  in  the  countr}^, 
and,  moreover,  a  genius. 

But  the  "  genius  "  fell  asleep  at  last,  as  if  he  had  been 
stunned  by  the  incense,  and  meanwhile  lunch  was  served. 
Marynia,  in  spite  of  all  her  friendship  for  the  artist,  seated 
Pan  Ignas  next  to  Panna  Eatkovski.  She  wished,  as,  for 
that  matter,  all  wished,  not  excepting  even  Svirski,  that 
something  should  be  made  clear  in  their  relations,  for  Paii 
Ignas  acted  strangely.  Svirski  held  that  he  was  not  yet  en- 
tirely normal.  He  was  healthy;  he  slept  and  ate  well;  he 
had  grown  a  little  heavier;  he  spoke  with  judgment,  even 
more  deliberately  than  had  been  his  habit,  —  but  there 
appeared  in  him  a  certain  infirmity  of  will,  a  certain  lack 
of  that  initiative  for  which  he  had  been  so  distinguished 
before.  In  Italy  he  grew  radiant  at  remembrance  of  Panna 
Ratkovski ;  and  when  he  spoke  of  her  his  eyes  filled  with 
tears  at  times.  On  his  return,  when  some  one  reminded  him 
that  it  would  be  well  to  make  a  visit  to  Panna  Ratkovski, 
and  especially  when  that  one  offered  to  go  with  him,  he 
answered,  "It  is  true,"  and  he  went  with  delight.  But  the 
visit  made,  it  seemed  as  though  he  did  not  remember  her 
existence.  At  times  it  was  evident  that  in  the  depth  of 
his  soul  something  was  troubling  him,  swallowing  all  his 
mental  force.  Svirski  supposed  for  a  while  that  it  might 
be  the  remembrance  of  Panna  Castelli  ;  but  he  convinced 
himself,  with  a  certain  astonishment,  that  it  was  not,  and 
at  last  he  began  to  think  that  Pan  Ignas  never  mentioned 
her  because  he  had  lost  the  feeling  that  she  was  real,  or 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  649 

that  she  seemed  to  him  now  an  impression  so  remote,  a 
remembrance  so  blown  apart,  that  it  could  not  be  brought 
into  a  real  living  whole.  He  was  not  melancholy.  On 
the  contrary,  one  might  note  at  times  in  him  satisfaction 
with  life  and  the  joy  which  he  experienced,  as  it  were,  in 
this  his  second  birth  in  it.  Really  sad,  more  and  more 
confined  in  herself,  and  increasingly  quiet,  was  Panna 
Eatkovski.  It  may  be  that,  besides  a  lack  of  mutual  feel- 
ing, other  things  in  Pan  Iguas  alarmed  her;  but  she  did 
not  mention  those  alarms  to  any  one.  Marynia  and  Pani 
Bigiel,  judging  that  the  only  cause  of  her  sadness  was  the 
conduct  of  Pan  Ignas,  showed  the  most  heartfelt  sympathy, 
and  were  ready  to  do  anything  to  help  her.  Marynia  saw 
Pan  Ignas  now  for  the  first  time  since  his  return  from 
Italy;  but  Pani  Bigiel  spoke  to  him  daily,  praising  Panna 
Eatkovski,  reminding  him  how  much  he  owed  her,  and 
giving  him  to  understand  more  and  more  clearly  that  it  was 
his  duty  to  pay  something  of  the  debt  which  he  owed  her. 
The  honest  Svirski,  to  the  detriment  of  his  own  hopes, 
repeated  the  same  to  him ;  and  Pan  Ignas  agreed  to  every- 
thing, but,  as  it  were,  unwillingly,  or  without  being  able 
to  add  the  final  conclusion.  He  spoke  of  his  approaching 
second  trip  abroad,  of  plans  of  still  greater  journeys  in  the 
future,  — in  a  word,  of  things  which,  by  their  nature, 
excluded  the  co-operation  of  Panna  Eatkovski. 

And  now,  sitting  side  by  side,  they  spoke  little  to  each 
other.  Pan  Ignas  ate  abundantly,  and  with  appetite,  even 
with  attention ;  he  followed  with  his  eyes  the  new  courses 
which  were  served  first  to  the  elder  guests.  Panna  Ilat- 
kovski,  noticing  this,  looked  on  him  at  moments,  as  if  with 
painful  sympathy.  At  last  this  began  to  vex  Marynia ;  so, 
wishing  to  rouse  a  conversation  between  them,  she  said, 
bending  over  the  table,  — 

"  You  have  come  so  recently  from  travels,  tell  me  and 
Steftsia  something  of  Italy.  Hast  thou  never  been  there, 
Steftsia  ?  " 

"I  have  not,"  answered  Panna  Eatkovski;  "but  not  long 
since  I  read  the  account  of  a  journey  — but  to  read  and  to 
see  are  different."  j  i.i.     *    1. 

And  she  blushed  slightly,  for  she  had  betrayed  the  fact 
that  she  had  been  reading  about  Italy  just  when  1  an  Ignas 

was  there.  c  -i    »>    o;^ 

"  Pan  Svirski  persuaded  me  to  go  as  far  as  »icUy,  saw 
he,  "but  it  was  hot  there  at  that  time;  that  would  be  tne 
place  to  visit  at  this  season." 


650  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

"Ah!"  said  Marynia,  "it  is  well  that  I  think  of  it  — 
but  my  letters  ?  You  asked  through  Pan  Svirski  if  I 
wished  you  to  write  your  impressions,  but  afterward  I  did 
not  receive  a  single  letter." 

Fan  Ignas  blushed ;  he  was  confused,  and  then  in  a  kind 
of  strange  and  uncertain  voice,  answered,  — 

"No,  for  I  have  not  been  able  yet;  I  will  write  very 
much,  but  later." 

Having  heard  these  words,  Svirski  approached  Marynia 
after  lunch,  and  indicating  Pan  Ignas  with  his  eyes, 
said, — 

"Do  you  know  the  impression  which  he  makes  on  me 
sometimes  ?  —  that  of  a  costly  vessel  which  is  cracked." 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  Q^i 


CHAPTER  LXVII. 

A  COUPLE  of  days  after  the  christening,  Svirski  visited 
Fan  btanislav  in  the  counting-house,  to  inquire  for  Marv- 
nia's  health,  and  to  talk  about  various  things  which  lay  at 
his  heart.     Seeing,  however,  that  he  was  late,  and  that  Pan 

Stanislav  was  preparing  to  go,  he  said, 

"  Do  not  stop  for  me.  Let  us  talk  on  the  street.  The 
light  is  so  sharp  to-day  that  I  cannot  work;  therefore  I 
will  walk  to  your  door  with  you." 

"  In  every  case  I  should  have  been  forced  to  beg  your 
pardon,"  said  Pan  Stanislav.  "  My  Marynia  goes  out  to- 
day for  the  first  time,  and  we  are  to  dine  with  the  Bigiels. 
She  must  be  dressed  by  this  time,  but  we  have  twenty 
minutes  yet." 

"  As  she  goes  out,  she  is  well  ?  " 

"Praise  be  to  God,  as  well  as  a  birdl"  answered  Pan 
Stanislav,  with  delight. 
"  And  the  little  Aryan  ?" 
"  The  little  Aryan  bears  himself  stoutly." 
"  0  happy  man,  if  I  had  such  a  toad  at  home,  not  to 
mention  such  a  wife,  I  should  not  know  what  to  do  —  un- 
less to  walk  upon  house-tops." 

"You  will  not  believe  how  that  boy  takes  my  heart. 
Every  day  more,  and  in  general,  in  a  way  that  I  did  not 
expect,  for  you  must  know  that  I  wanted  a  daughter." 

"  It  is  not  evening  yet ;  the  daughter  will  come.  But 
you  are  in  a  hurry ;  let  us  go  then." 

Pan  Stanislav  took  his  fur  coat,  and  they  went  to  the 
street.  The  day  was  frosty,  clear.  Around  was  heard  the 
hurried  sound  of  sleigh-bells.  Men  had  their  collars  over 
their  ears,  their  mustaches  were  frosty,  and  they  threw 
columns  of  steam  from  their  mouths. 

"  It  is  a  gladsome  sort  of  day,"  said  Pan  Stanislav.  "  I 
rejoice,  for  my  Marynia's  sake,  that  it  is  clear." 

"It  is  gladsome  for  you  in  life;  therefore  everything 
seems  clear  to  you,"  said  Svirski,  taking  him  by  the  arm. 
But  all  at  once  he  dropped  the  arm,  and  stopping  the 
way,  said,  with  an  expression  as  if  he  wished  to  quarrel,  — 


652  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

"  Do  you  know  that  you  have  the  most  beautiful  woman 
in  Warsaw  as  wife  ?     It  is  I  who  tell  you  this  —  I !  " 

And  he  began  to  strike  his  breast  with  his  hand  as  if  tc 
increase  thereby  the  certainty  that  it  was  he  and  no  one 
else  who  was  speaking  thus. 

"  Of  course  !  "  answered  Pan  Stanislav,  laughing,  "  and 
also  the  best  and  most  honest  on  earth ;  but  let  us  go  on, 
for  it  is  cold." 

When  Svirski  took  him  again  by  the  arm,  Pan  Stanislav 
added  with  some  emotion,  — 

"  But  what  I  went  through  during  her  sickness,  the  Lord 
God  alone  knows  —  Better  not  mention  it  —  She  gave 
me  a  surprise  simply  by  her  return  to  life ;  but  if  God 
grants  me  to  live  till  spring,  I  will  give  a  surprise  that  will 
gladden  her." 

"  There  is  nothing  with  which  to  compare  her,"  answered 
Svirski. 

Then,  halting  again,  he  said,  as  if  in  astonishment,  "And, 
as  I  love  God,  so  much  simplicity  at  the  same  time." 

They  walked  on  a  while  in  silence,  then  Pan  Stanislav 
asked  Svirski  of  his  journey. 

"  I  shall  stay  three  weeks  in  Florence,"  answered  the 
artist.  "  I  have  some  work  there.  Besides,  I  have  grown 
homesick  for  the  light  on  San  Miniato  and  Ginevra,  with 
which,  and  with  Cimabue,  I  was  in  love  on  a  time.  Do 
you  remember  in  Santa  Maria  Novella,  in  the  chapel  of 
Rucellai  ?  After  a  three  weeks'  stay  I  shall  go  to  Rome. 
I  wanted  to  talk  with  you  about  the  journey,  for  this  morn- 
ing Pan  Ignas  came  to  me  with  the  proposition  that  we 
should  go  again  together." 

"  Ah  !  and  did  you  agree  ?  " 

"I  had  not  the  heart  to  refuse,  though,  between  our- 
selves, he  is  sometimes  a  burden.  But  you  know  how  I 
loved  him,  and  how  I  felt  for  him,  so  it  is  hard  for  me 
to  say  it,  but  he  is  burdensome  occasionally.  What  is  to  be 
said  in  this  case?  he  is  changed  immensely.  At  the 
christening  I  told  Pani  Polanyetski  that  at  times  he  seems 
to  me  like  a  costly  vessel  which  is  cracked ;  and  that  is 
true.  For  I  saw  how  he  struggled  over  those  letters,  in 
which  he  wished  to  describe  Italy  for  her.  He  walked 
whole  hours  through  the  room,  rubbed  his  shot  forehead, 
sat  down,  stood  up ;  but  the  paper  remained  just  as  it  was, 
untouched.  God  grant  him  to  recover  his  former  power. 
At  present  he  repeats  to  every  one  that  he  will  write ;  but 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  653 

he  begins  to  doubt  himself,  and  to  grieve.    I  know  that  he 
grieves." 

"  The  loss  of  his  power  would  be  a  misfortune  both  for 
him  and  Panna  Helena.  If  you  knew  how  she  was  con- 
cerned to  the  verge  of  despair,  not  only  for  his  life,  but 
his  talent." 

"  The  loss  of  that  would  be  a  public  misfortune  ;  but  the 
person  for  whom  I  am  most  sorry  is  Panna  Katkovski. 
She  too  begins  to  doubt  whether  he  will  be  what  he  was,' 
and  that  tortures  her,  perhaps,  more  than  other  griefs." 

"  Poor  girl !  "  said  Pan  Stanislav,  "  and  the  more  so  since 
from  all  his  plans  of  travelling  one  thing  is  clear,  that  he 
does  not  even  think  of  her.  It  is  fortunate  that  Panna 
Helena  secured  her  independence." 

"I  will  wait  a  year,"  answered  Svirski,  "and  after  a  year 
I  will  propose  a  second  time.     She  has  taken  hold  of*  me, 
it  is  not  to  be  denied  !     Have  you  noticed  how  becoming 
sliort  hair  is  to  her  ?  She  ought  to  wear  it  that  way  always. 
I  will   wait   a  year,"  and  he  was   silent;  "but  after  that 
I  shall  consider  my  hands  free.     It  is  not  possible  either 
that  in  her  something  will  not  change  in  a  year,  especially 
if  he  gives  no  sign  of  life.     All  this  is  wonderfully  strange. 
Do  you  think  that  I  do  not  do  everything  in  my  power  to 
blow  into  life  some  spark  for  her?    As  God  is  true,  a  man 
has  never  done  more  against  his  own  heart  than  I  have. 
Pani  Kigiel   too   does   what  she  can.    But  it  is  difficult 
Again,  no  one  has  the  right  to  say  to  him  expressly:  marry ! 
if  he  does  not  love  her.     And  this  is  the  more  wonderful, 
since  he  does  not  seem  even  to  think  of  the  other.    One 
Panna  Ratkovski  is  worth  more  than  a  whole  grove  of  such 
*  Poplars  ; '  but  that  is  another  affair  !    For  me  the  point  is 
that  she  should  not  suppose  that  I  am  taking  him  away 
purposely.     I  have  not  dissuaded  him,  for  I  could  not ;  but, 
my  dear  sir,  should  there  ever  be  a  conversation  about  our 
journey,  say  to  her  that,  as  God  lives,  I  did  not  persuade 
Pan  Ignas  to  the  journey,  and  that  I  would  give  more  than 
she  supposes  to  make  her  happy,  even  were  it  at  the  cost  of 
an  old  dog  like  me." 

"  Of  course  we  shall  do  so." 

"  Thank  you  for  that.    Before  going,  I  shall  be  with  you 

a^ain  to  say  good-by  to  Pani  Polanyetski."  t4.t  i, 

^"  Surelv  in  the  evening,  so  that  we  may  sit  longer.   1  tlnnk 

too  that  3"^ou  will  return  in  summer;  you  and  Pan  Ignas  wiU 

spend  some  time  with  us." 


654  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

"  In  Buchynek  ?" 

"  In  Buchynek  or  not,  that  is  unknown  yet." 

Further  conversation  was  interrupted  by  the  sight  of 
Osnovski,  who  at  that  moment  was  coming  out  of  a  fruit- 
shop,  with  a  white  package  in  his  hand. 

"  See,  there  is  Osnovski ! "  said  Svirski. 

"  How  changed  !  "  said  Pan  Stanislav. 

And  indeed  he  was  changed  immensely.  From  under  his 
fur  cap  gazed  a  pale  face,  grown  yellow,  and,  as  it  were, 
much  older.  His  fur  coat  seemed  to  hang  on  him.  Seeing 
his  two  friends,  he  was  vexed ;  it  was  evident  that  for  a 
while  he  hesitated  whether  or  not  to  go  around,  pretending 
that  he  did  not  see  them.  But  the  sidewalk  was  empty, 
and  they  had  come  so  near  that  he  changed  his  intention, 
and,  coming  up,  began  to  speak  with  unnatural  haste,  as 
if  wishing  to  cover  with  talk  that  of  which  all  three  were 
thinking  exclusively. 

"  A  good  day  to  you,  gentlemen  !  Oh,  this  is  a  chance 
that  we  meet,  for  I  am  shut  up  in  Prytulov,  and  come  rarely 
to  the  city.  I  have  just  bought  some  grapes,  for  the  doctor 
orders  me  to  eat  grapes.  But  they  are  imported  in  saw- 
dust, and  have  the  odor  of  it;  I  thought  they  would 
be  better  here.  There  is  frost  to-day,  indeed.  In  the 
country  sleighing  is  perfect." 

And  they  walked  on  together,  all  feeling  awkward. 

"  You  are  going  to  Egypt,  are  you  not  ?  "  inquired  Pan 
Stanislav  at  last. 

"  That  is  my  old  plan,  and  perhaps  I  shall  go.  In  the 
country  there  is  nothing  to  do  in  winter ;  it  is  tedious  to  be 
alone  there." 

Here  he  stopped  suddenly,  for  he  saw  that  he  was  touching 
a  delicate  subject.  And  they  went  on  in  a  silence  still  more 
oppressive,  feeling  that  unspeakable  awkwardness  which  is 
felt  always  when,  by  some  tacit  agreement,  people  talk  of 
things  of  no  interest,  while  hiding  the  main  ones,  which 
are  painful.  Osnovski  would  have  been  glad  to  leave*  his 
two  friends ;  but  people  accustomed  for  long  years  to  observe 
certain  forms  pay  attention  to  appearances  unconsciously, 
even  in  the  deepest  misfortune,  hence  he  wanted  to  find, 
some  easy  and  natural  means  of  leaving  Pan  Stanislav  and 
the  artist;  but  not  being  able  to  find  it,  he  merely  continued 
the  awkward  position.  Finally,  he  began  to  take  farewell 
of  them  in  the  unexpected  and  unnatural  way  of  a  man 
who  has  lost  his  head. 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  655 

At  the  last  moment,  however,  he  determined  otherwise. 
Such  a  comedy  seemed  to  him  uuendui-able.  He  had  had 
enough  of  it.  It  flashed  into  his  head  that  he  ought  not  to 
make  a  secret  of  anything;  that  in  avoidance  of  every 
mention  of  misfortune  there  is  something  abject.  On  liis 
face  constraint  was  clear,  and  suffering;  but,  halting,  he 
began  to  say  with  a  broken  voice,  losing  breath  every 
moment,  — 

"  Gentlemen,  I  beg  pardon  for  detaining  you  longer.  But 
you  know  that  I  have  separated  from  my  wife  —  I  do  not 
see  any  reason  why  I  should  not  speak  of  it,  especially  with 
persons  so  honorable  and  so  near  — I  declare  to  you,  gentle- 
men, .that  that  was  —  that  that  hap})ened  so  —  that  is,  that 
I  wished  it  myself,  and  that  to  my  wife  nothing  —  " 

But  tlie  voice  stuck  in  his  throat,  and  he  could  not  speak 
further.  Evidently  he  w^anted  to  take  the  fault  on  himself; 
but  on  a  sudden  he  felt  all  the  incredibility,  all  the  extent 
and  desperate  emptiness  of  a  lie  like  that,  which  must  be  a 
mere  sound  of  words,  so  that  not  even  the  feeling  of  any 
duty,  nor  any  social  appearance  could  justify  him.  And, 
losing  his  head  altogether,  he  went  into  the  crowd,  bearing 
with  him  his  grapes  and  unfathomable  misfortune. 

Svirski  and  Pan  Stanislav  went  on  in  silence  under  the 
impression  of  this  misfortune. 

"As  God  is  true,"  said  Pan  Stanislav  at  length,  "his 
heart  is  breaking." 

"  For  such  a  man,"  answered  the  artist,  "  there  is  nothing 
except  to  wish  death." 

"  And  still  he  has  not  deserved  such  a  fate." 

"I  give  you  my  word,"  said  Svirski,  "whenever  I  think 
of  him,  I  see  him  kissisig  her  hands.  He  did  it  so  often 
that  I  cannot  imagine  him  otherwise.  And  what  sets  me 
to  thinking  again  is  this,  that  misfortune,  like  death,  severs 
the  relations  of  people,  or  if  it  does  not  sever  relations  com- 
pletely, it  estranges  people.  You  have  not  known  him  long, 
but  I,  for  example,  lived  on  intimate  terms  with  him,  and 
now  he  is  to  me  somehow  farther  away,  while  I  am  to  him 
more  a  stranger ;  there  is  no  help  in  this  case,  arid  that  is 
so  sad." 

"Sad  and  wonderful — " 

But  Svirski  stopped  on  a  sudden,  and  exclaimed,  — 

*'Do  you  know  what?  May  a  thunderbolt  burn  that 
Pani  Osnovski !  Panna  Helena  said  that  it  was  not  per- 
mitted to  despair  of  a  man  while  he  was  living;  but  as  to 
that  one,  let  a  thunderbolt  shake  her ! " 


656  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

"  There  was  not  in  the  world,  perhaps,  a  woman  more 
worshipped  than  she,"  said  Pan  Stanislav. 

"  There  you  have  them,"  answered  Svirski,  passionately. 
"  Women,  taking  them  in  general  —  " 

But  all  at  once  he  struck  his  glove  across  his  mouth. 

"  No  ! "  cried  he.  "  To  the  devil  with  my  old  fault !  I 
have  promised  myself  not  to  make  any  general  conclusions 
about  women." 

"  I  said  that  he  worshipped  her,"  continued  Pan  Stanis- 
lav, "  because  now  I  simply  do  not  understand  how  he  can 
live  without  her." 

<'  But  he  must." 

Osnovski  was  forced  really  to  live  without  his  wife,  but 
he  was  not  able.  In  Prytulov  and  in  Warsaw,  which 'were 
full  of  reminiscences  of  her,  life  soon  became  for  liim  unen- 
durable ;  hence  a  month  later  he  started  on  a  journey.  But, 
already  out  of  health  when  he  left  Warsaw,  he  caught  cold 
in  an  over-heated  car,  and  in  Vienna  fell  so  ill  that  he  had 
to  take  to  his  bed.  The  cold,  which  at  first  was  considered 
influenza,  turned  into  a  violent  typhus.  After  a  few  days 
ihe  sick  man  lost  consciousness,  and  lay  in  a  hotel  at  the 
mercy  of  strange  doctors  and  strange  people,  far  from  home 
and  his  friends.  But  afterward  in  the  fever  which  heated 
his  brain  and  confused  his  thoughts  it  seemed  to  him  that 
he  saw  near  his  bedside  the  face  dearest  in  life  to  him, 
beloved  at  all  times,  beloved  in  loneliness,  in  sickness,  and 
in  presence  of  death.  It  seemed  to  him  that  he  saw  it  even 
when  he  had  regained  consciousness,  but  was  so  weak  that 
he  could  not  move  yet,  nor  speak,  nor  even  arrange  his  own 
thoughts. 

Later  the  vision  disappeared.  But  he  began  to  inquire 
about  it  from  the  Sisters  of  Charity,  who  were  sent,  it  was 
unknown  by  whom,  and  who  surrounded  him  with  the  most 
tender  care ;  and  he  began  to  yearn  beyond  measure. 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  557 


CHAPTER  LXVIII. 

After  the  solemnity  of  tlie  christening,  and  after  the 
departure  of  Svirski  and  Pan  Ignas,  the  Polanyetskis 
began  to  live  again  a  secluded  and  home  life,  seeing 
scarcely  any  one  except  the  Bigiels,  Pani  Emilia,  and 
Vaskovski.  But  it  was  pleasant  for  them  in  that  narrow- 
circle  of  near  friends,  and  pleasantest  of  all  with  them- 
selves. Pan  Stanislav  was  greatly  occupied;  he  sat  long 
in  the  counting-house  and  outside  the  counting-house, 
settling  some  business  of  which  no  one  else  knew  anything. 
But,  after  hnishing  his  work,  he  hurried  home  now  with 
greater  haste  than  when ,  as  betrothed ,  he  flew  every  day 
to  the  lodgings  of  the  Plavitskis.  His  old  liveliness  re- 
turned, his  old  humor  and  confidence  in  life.  Soon  he 
made  a  discovery  which  seemed  to  him  wonderful, -r- 
namely,  that  not  only  did  he  love  his  wife  with  all  his 
power  as  his  wife  and  the  one  dearest  to  him,  but  that  he 
was  in  love  with  her  as  a  woman,  without  alarm  or  effort,  it 
is  true,  without  transitions  from  joy  to  doubts  and  despair, 
but  with  all  the  emotions  of  sincere  feeling,  with  a  whole 
movement  of  desire,  with  a  continually  uniform  fresh 
sensitiveness  to  her  feminine  charm,  and  with  an  untiring 
care,  which  watches,  foresees,  acts,  anticipates,  wishes, 
and  strives  continually  not  to  injure  happiness,  and  not 
to  lose  it.  "I  shall  change  into  an  Osnovski,"  said  he, 
humorously;  "but  to  me  alone  is  it  permitted  to  be  an 
Osnovski,  because  mv  little  one  will  never  become  a  Pani 
Aneta."  He  said  "my  little  one"  to  her  often  now,  but 
there  was  in  that  as  much  respect  as  petting.  He  under- 
stood, too, that  he  never  should  have  loved  her  so,  if  she 
had  been  other  than  she  was;  that  all  was  the  result  of 
her  immense,  honest  will,  and  of  that  sort  of  wonderful 
rectitude  which  issued  from  her  as  naturally  as  heat  from 
a  hearth.  Pan  Stanislav  knew  that  his  mnid  was  the  more 
active,  his  thought  the  more  far-reaching,  and  his  knowledge 
profounder  than  her  knowledge;  still  he  felt  that  through 
her,  and  through  her  alone,  all  that  which  was  in  hira 
had  become  in  some  way  more  finished  and  more  noble. 
Through  her  influence  all  those  principles  acquired  by  him 

42 


658  CHILDREN  OP  THE  SOIL. 

passed  from  hia.liead,  where  they  had  been  a  dead  theory, 
to  his  heart,  where  they  became  active  life.  He  noticed, 
too,  that  not  only  happiness,  but  he  himself  was  her  work. 
There  was  in  this  even  a  little  disillusion  for  him,  since 
he  saw,  without  any  doubt,  that  had  he  found  some  common 
kind  of  woman  he  might  have  turned  out  some  common  kind 
of  man.  At  times  he  wondered  even  how  she  could  have 
loved  him;  but  he  called  to  mind  then  her  expression,  "ser- 
vice of  God,"  and  that  explained  to  him  everything.  For 
such  a  woman  marriage ,  too,  was  "service  of  God,"  as  was 
love  also,  not  by  some  wild  power  lying  beyond  the  will  of 
people,  but  precisely  by  an  act  of  honest  will,  by  serving 
an  oath,  by  serving  God's  law,  by  serving  duty.  Marynia 
loved  him  because  he  was  her  husband.  Such  was  she, 
and  that  was  the  end  of  the  question!  For  a  long  time 
Pan  Stanislav  was  not  able  to  see  that  all  that  which  he 
worshipped  in  her  was  enjoined  directly  by  the  first  cate- 
chism which  one  might  take  up,  and  that  in  her  training 
had  not  killed  the  catechism.  Perhaps  she  had  not  been 
reared  with  sufficient  care;  but  she  had  been  taught  that 
she  must  serve  God,  and  not  use  God  to  serve  herself. 

Pan  Stanislav,  not  understanding  well  the  reasons  why 
she  was  what  she  was,  admired  her  increasingl}^,  honored 
and  loved  her.  As  to  her,  while  taking  things  without 
exaggeration,  she  did  not  conceive  an  excessive  opinion  of 
herself;  she  understood,  however,  that  life  had  never  been 
so  pleasant  for  her  as  it  then  was ;  that  she  bad  passed 
through  certain  trials;  that  during  those  trials  she  had 
acted  honorably;  that  she  had  endured  the  trials  with 
patience;  that  the  Lord  God  had  rewarded  her.  And  this 
feeling  filled  her  with  peace.  Her  health  came  back  com- 
pletely; she  felt,  therewith,  very  pleasant,  and  very  much 
beloved.  That  "Stas,"  whom  formerly  she  had  feared  a 
little,  inclined  his  dark  head  frequently  to  her  knees  with 
submissiveness  almost;  and  she  thought  with  delight  that 
"that  man  was  not  at  all  bending  by  nature,  and  that  if 
he  did  bend,  it  was  because  he  loved  much."  And  she  just 
grew  every  day.  Gratitude  rose  in  her,  and  she  paid  him 
for  his  love  with  her  whole  heart. 

The  young  "  Aryan  "  filled  his  role  of  a  ray  in  the  house 
splendidly.  Sometimes  it  was,  indeed,  a  ray  connected 
with  noise;  but  when  he  was  in  good-humor,  and  when, 
lying  in  his  favorite  position,  with  his  legs  raised  at  right 
angles,  he  drew  cries  of  delight  from  himself,  all  the  male 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  659 

and  female  population  of  the  house  gathered  around  his 
cradle.  Marynia  covered  his  legs,  calling  him  "naughty- 
boy  ;  "  but  he  pulled  off  the  cover  every  instant,  thinking, 
evidently,  that  if  a  man  of  character  has  determined  to 
kick,  he  should  hold  out  in  his  undertaking  bravelv.  He 
lauglied  while  he  kicked,  showing  his  little  toothless  gums, 
crowing,  twittering  like  a  sparrow,  cooing  like  a  dove,  or 
mewing  like  a  cat.  On  such  occasions  his  nurse  and  mother 
talked  for  whole  hours  with  him.  Professor  Vaskovski, 
who  had  lost  his  head  over  the  boy  altogether,  maintained 
with  perfect  seriousness  that  that  was  an  "esoteric  speech," 
which  should  be  phonographed  by  scientists,  for  it  might 
either  disclose  thoroughly  the  mystery  of  astral  existence, 
or,  at  least,  touch  on  its  main  indications. 

In  this  way  the  winter  months  passed  in  the  house  of 
the  ]*olanyetskis.  In  January,  Pan  Stanislav  began  to 
make  journeys  on  some  business,  and  after  each  return  he 
had  long  consultations  with  Bigiel.  But  from  the  middle 
of  January  he  stayed  at  home  permanently,  never  going 
out,  unless  to  the  counting-house,  or  to  take  short  excur- 
sions with  Marynia  and  Stas  in  the  carriage.  The  uni- 
formity of  their  life,  or  rather  the  uniformity  of  its 
calmness  and  happiness,  was  interrupted  only  by  news  of 
acquaintances  in  the  city,  brought  most  frequently  by 
Paui  Bigiel.  In  this  way  Marynia  learned  that  Panna 
Ratkovski,  who,  of  late,  had  not  shown  herself  anywhere, 
had  established  a  refuge  for  children  from  the  income 
secured  her  by  Panna  Helena,  and  that  Osnovski  had  gone 
really  to  Egypt,  not  alone,  however,  but  with  his  "  Anetka," 
with  whom,  after  returning  to  health,  he  reunited  him- 
self. Pan  Kresovski,  the  former  second  of  Mashko,  had 
seen  them  in  Trieste,  and  declared  to  Pan  Stanislav  ironi- 
cally that  "the  lady  had  the  look  of  a  submissive  penitent." 
Pan"  Stanislav,  knowing  from  experience  how  a  person  is 
crushed  in  misfortune,  and  what  sincerity  there  may  be  in 
penitence,  replied  witli  perfect  seriousness  that  since  her 
husband  had  received  Pani  Osnovski,  no  decent  man  had  a 
right  to  be  more  exacting  than  he  was. 

But  later  news  came  from  Italy  wliich  was  more  wonder- 
ful, and  so  unheard  of  that  it  became  the  subject  of  talk. 


married  immediately  after  Easter.     Marynia  was  so  much 


660  CHILDREN  OF  THE   SOIL. 

roused  by  this  that  she  persuaded  her  husband  to  write  to 
Svirski  and  ask  if  it  were  true.  An  answer  came  in  ten 
days;  and  v;hen  Pan  Stanislav  entered  his  wife's  room  at 
last  with  the  letter,  holding  it  by  the  corner  of  the  en- 
velope, and  with  the  w^ords,  "  Letter  from  Rome ! "  the 
serious  Marynia  ran  up  to  him,  with  cheeks  red  from 
curiosity,  and  the  two,  standing  temple  to  temple,  read  as 
follows :  — 

"Is  it  true?  No,  dear  friends,  it  is  not  true!  But  that  you 
should  understand  why  that  could  not  take  place,  and  can  never  take 
place,  I  must  speak  to  you  of  Pan  Ignas.  He  came  here  three  days 
since.  First  I  persuaded  him  to  remain  in  Florence,  then  to  glance 
at  Sienna,  Parma,  and  especially  Ravenna.  Thence  I  send  him  to 
Athens,  and  to-morrow  he  will  go  by  way  of  Brindisi.  ^Meanwhile 
he  sat  with  me  from  morning  till  evening.  I  saw  that  something  was 
troubling  the  man,  and  wishing  to  turn  direct  conversation  to  things 
which  concerned  him  more  closely,  I  asked  yesterday  carelessly  if  he 
had  not  in  his  portfolio  a  half  a  dozen  sonnets  on  Ravenna.  And 
do  you  know  what  took  place?  At  first  he  grew  pale,  and  answered, 
'  Not  yet,'  but  added  that  he  would  begin  to  write  soon ;  then  he 
threw  his  hat  on  the  floor  suddenly,  and  began  to  sob  like  a  child. 
Never  have  I  seen  an  outburst  of  similar  suffering.  He  just  wrung 
his  hands,  saying  that  he  had  murdered  his  talent;  that  there  was 
nothing  more  left  in  him ;  that  never  would  he  have  power  to  write 
another  line ;  that  he  would  prefer  a  hundred  times  that  Panna 
Helena  had  not  saved  him.  You  see  what  is  happening  within  him ; 
while  people  will  say,  surely,  that  he  does  not  write  because  he  has 
money.  And  this,  beyond  doubt,  will  remain  so.  They  have  killed 
the  poor  man,  murdered  soul  and  talent  in  him,  put  out  tiie  strong 
fire  from  which  light  and  warmth  might  have  come  to  people.  And 
that,  see  you,  I  could  not  forget.  God  be  with  Panna  Castelli !  but  it 
was  not  right  for  her  to  pluck  such  feathers  to  make  for  herself  a 
fan,  which  she  threw  out  of  the  window  soon  after.  No  !  I  could  not 
forget  this  !  Never  mind  what  I  said  in  Warsaw,  that  now  she  must 
find  a  Prince  Crapulescu,  since  no  one  else  will  take  her;  for,  besides 
that  kind,  there  are  blind  men  in  the  world  also,  —  ])lenty  of  them. 
As  to  me,  I  am  neither  Prince  Crapulescu,  nor  blind.  It  is  per- 
mitted to  forgive  wrongs  done  to  one's  self,  but  not  those  done  to 
others  ;  for  that  would  be  too  easy.  And  this  is  all  that  I  can  tell 
you  touching  this  matter,  for  you  yourselves  know  the  rest.  I  am 
waiting  out  the  year  ;  then  I  shall  repeat  my  prayer  to  Panna  Rat- 
kovski.  If  she  wants  lue,  or  rejects  me,  may  (iod  bless  her  in  every 
case;  but  still  that  is  my  unchangeable  decision." 

"Indeed!"  interrupted  Marynia  ;  "but  whence  did  such 
news  come  ?  " 

But  in  the  continuation  of  the  letter  Svirski  gave  an 
exact  answer. 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  661 

"  All  this  gossip  "  (wrote  he),  "  may  have  arisen  from  this,  that  I 
have  seen  those  ladies  rather  often.  You  remember  that,  durin;^  my 
former  stay  in  Rome,  Tani  Bronich  wrote  to  me  first,  and  I  was  "with 
them.  Panna  Castelli,  instead  of  seeking  evasions,  blamed  herself. 
I  confess  that  that  affected  me.  Let  people  say  what  they  lilce,  still 
in  an  open  confession  of  fault  there  is  a  certain  awakening  of  honesty, 
a  certain  courage,  a  certain  turn,  a  groan  of  sorrow,  which,  if  it  does 
not  redeem  the  offence,  may  redeem  the  soul.  And  beHeve  me  that 
in  this  which  I  say  there  is  more  than  my  heart  of  butter.  Think, 
also,  that  in  truth  it  is  evil  for  them.  Are  the  times  few  in  wliich 
I  have  seen  the  hesitation  with  which  they  approach  jjcople,  and 
how  they  are  received  by  persons  who  have  the  courage  of  their 
principles  ?  So  much  bitterness  has  gathered  in  these  two  women, 
that,  as  Vaskovski  said  with  truth  once,  they  are  beginning  to  be 
embittered  against  themselves.  That  is  a  terrible  position,  in  which 
one  belongs,  as  it  were,  to  the  world,  and  carries  the  burden  of  a 
notable  scandal.  God  be  with  them !  Much  might  be  written  of 
this ;  but  I  remember  always  what  Panna  Helena  said,  —  that  one 
must  not  despair  of  a  man  while  he  lives.  That  unfortunate  Lineta 
has  changed  from  grief;  she  has  grown  thin  and  ugly,  and  I  am 
very  sorry  for  her.  I  am  sorry  even  for  Pani  Bronich,  who,  it  is 
true,  bores  holes  in  people's  ears  with  her  lies ;  but  she  does  it  out  of 
attachment  to  that  girl.  Still,  as  I  have  said,  it  is  permitted  only  to 
forgive  wrongs  done  ourselves ;  but  a  man  would  be  a  kind  of  gorilla, 
and  not  a  Christian,  if  he  did  not  feel  a  little  pity  over  the  misfor- 
tunes of  people.  Whether  I  shall  have  the  heart  to  go  to  them 
again  after  having  seen  the  despair  of  Ignas,  I  know  not.  I  am  not 
sorry,  however,  that  I  was  there.  People  will  talk ;  they  will  stop 
talking ;  and  after  a  year  or  so,  if  (iod  grant  me  and  that  dear 
maiden  to  wait  it  out,  they  will  see  that  they  are  talking  nonsense." 

The  letter  finished  with  a  reference  to  the  Osnovskis,  of 
whose  reunion  Svirski  knew ;  he  had  heard,  even,  various 
details  which  were  unknown  to  Pan  Stanislav. 

"  To  think  "  (wrote  he)  "  that  God  is  more  powerful  than  the  per- 
versity of  man,  and  also  is  fabulously  merciful,  and  that  sometimes 
He  permits  misfortune  to  beat  a  man  on  the  head  as  with  a  hammer, 
so  as  to  knock  some  spark  of  honesty  out  of  him.  I  believe  now 
even  in  the  rebirth  of  such  as  Pani  Aneta.  Mayl«  it  is  naTve  in  me, 
but  at  times  I  admit  that  there  are  no  people  in  the  world  who  are 
completely  bad.  See,  something  quivered  in  Pani  Aneta  even;  she 
nursed  him  in  his  sickness.  Oi,  those  women  I  Everything  is  so 
turned  around  in  my  head  that  soon  I  shall  not  have  an  opmion,  not 
merely  about  them,  but  about  anything." 

Further  on  were  questions  about  Stas,  and  heartfelt  words 
for  his  life-givers,  and  finally  a  promise  to  return  in  the 
first  days  of  spring. 


662  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 


CHAPTEIR  LXIX. 

But  spring  was  comiug  really,  and,  besides,  it  was  as  warm 
as  it  was  early.  Pan  Stauislav,  at  the  end  of  March  and 
the  beginning  of  April,  began  again  to  make  journeys,  and 
sometimes  to  spend  a  jjumber  of  days  away  from  home. 
He  and  Bigiel  were  so  busied  that  often  they  remained  in 
the  counting-house  till  late  in  the  evening.  Pani  Bigiel 
supposed  that  they  must  be  undertaking  something  large  ; 
but  it  astonished  her  that  her  husband,  who  always  spoke 
with  her  about  his  business,  and  almost  thought  aloud  in 
her  presence,  and  even  frequently  took  counsel  with  her, 
was  as  silent  now  as  if  spell-bound.  Marynia  noticed  also 
that  "  Stas "  had  his  head  filled  with  something  in  an 
unusual  manner.  He  was  more  tender  toward  her  than 
ever;  but  it  seemed  to  her  that  in  that  tenderness  of  his,  as 
well  as  in  every  conversation  and  every  petting,  there  was 
some  third  thing,  another  thought,  which  occupied  him  so 
thoroughly  that  he  could  not  keep  away  from  it  even  a 
moment.  And  this  state  of  distraction  increased  daily  till 
the  beginning  of  May,  when  it  passed  into  something 
feverish.  Marynia  began  to  hesitate  whether  to  ask  or 
not,  what  the  matter  was.  She  was  a  little  afraid  to 
intrude  ;  but  for  her  it  was  important  also  that  he  should 
not  think  that  his  affairs  concerned  her  too  little.  In  this 
uncertainty,  she  determined  to  wait  for  a  favorable  mo- 
ment, hoping  that  he  himself  would  begin  to  touch  on  his 
business,  even  remotely. 

In  fact,  it  seemed  to  her,  on  a  certain  day  soon  after, 
that  the  opportune  moment  had  come.  Pan  Stanislav  re- 
turned from  the  counting-house  earlier  than  usual,  and 
with  a  face  in  some  way  wonderfully  radiant,  though  seri- 
ous, so  that,  looking  him  in  the  eyes,  she  asked,  almost 
mechanically,  — 

"  Something  favorable  must  have  happened,  Stas  ?  " 

He  sat  near  her,  and  instead  of  answering  directly, 
began  to  talk  with  a  voice  which  was  strange  in  some 
sort,  — 

"  See  how  calm  and  warm.  The  windows  might  be 
opened  now.     Dost  thou  know  what  I've  been  thinking 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  663 

of  these  last  days  ?  That  for  thy  health  and  Stas's  we 
ought  to  go  soon  from  the  city." 

"  But  is  not  Buehynek  rented  ?"  asked  Marynia. 

"  Buehynek  is  sold,"  answered  he.  Then,  taking  both 
her  hands  and  looking  into  her  eyes  with  immense  affec- 
tion, he  said,  — 

"  Listen,  my  dear,  I  have  something  to  tell  thee,  and 
something  which  ought  to  please  thee ;  but  promise  not  to 
be  excited  too  much." 

"  Well,  what  is  it,  Stas  ?  " 

"  Seest  thou,  my  little  one  ?  Mashko  fled  to  foreign  parts ; 
for  he  had  more  debts  than  property.  His  creditors  threw 
themselves  on  everything  which  was  left  after  him,  so  as 
to  recover  even  something.  Everything  went  into  liquida- 
tion. Magyerovka  has  been  parcelled,  and  is  lost;  but 
Kremen,  Skoki,  and  Suhotsin  could  be  saved.  Do  not 
grow   excited,  my  love;    I  have   bought  them  for  thee." 

Marynia  looked  at  him  some  time,  blinking,  and  as  if 
not  believing  her  ears.  But  no !  He  was  so  moved  him- 
self that  he  could  not  jest.  Her  eyes  were  darkened  with 
tears,  and  all  at  once  she  threw  both  arms  around  his  neck. 

"  Stas ! " 

And  at  that  moment  she  could  not  find  other  words ;  but 
in  this  one  exclamation  there  were  thanks  and  great  love, 
and  a  woman's  homage  for  the  efficiency  of  that  man  who 
had  been  able  to  do  everything.  Fan  Stanislav  understood 
this ;  and  in  the  feeling  of  that  immense  happiness  which 
he  had  not  known  hitherto,  he  began  to  speak,  holding  her 
still  at  his  breast,  — 

"  I  knew  that  this  would  comfort  thee,  and  God  knows 
there  is  no  greater  pleasure  for  me  than  thy  delight.  I  re- 
membered that  thou  wert  sorry  for  Kremen,  that  that  was 
an  injustice  to  thee,  and  that  it  was  possible  to  correct  it; 
therefore  I  corrected  it.  But  that  is  nothing!  If  I  had 
bought  ten  such  Kremens  for  thee,  I  should  not  have  repaid 
thee  for  the  good  which  thou  hast  done  me,  and  still  I 
should  not  be  worthy  of  thee." 

And  he  spoke  sincerely ;  but  Marynia  removed  her  head 
from  his  shoulder,  and,  raising  on  him  her  eyes,  which 
were  at  once  moist  and  bright,  said,  — 

"  It  is  I,  Stas,  that  am  not  worthy  of  thee ;  and  I  did  not 
even  hope  to  be  so  happy." 

Then  they  began  to  dispute  who  was  the  more  worthy; 
but  in  that  dispute  there  were  frequent  intervals  of  silence, 


664  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

for  iMarynia,  every  moment  embracing  him,  pushed  up  to 
hinr  her  mouth,  beautiful,  though  a  little  too  wide,  and 
kissed  him  ;  and  then  he  kissed  in  turn  her  eyes  and  her 
hands.  For  a  long  time  yet  she  wanted  now  to  cry,  now 
to  laugh  from  delight ;  for  really  her  happiness  surpassed 
everything  which  she  had  ever  hoped  for.  Her  mother  had. 
written  once,  with  a  weakening  hand,  '"'One  should  not 
marry  to  be  happy,  but  to  fultil  the  duties  which  God 
imposes  ;  happiness  is  only  an  addition  and  a  gift  of  God." 
Meanwhile  this  addition  was  now  too  great  to  find  place  in 
her  heart.  There  had  been  trials,  there  had  been  moments 
of  grief  to  her,  and  even  of  doubt ;  but  all  had  passed,  and 
at  last  that  "  Stas  "  not  only  loved  her  as  the  sight  of  his 
eye,  but  he  had  done  more  than  he  had  ever  promised. 

And  at  that  moment,  while  walking  with  long  strides 
through  the  room,  still  excited,  but  pleased  with  himself, 
and  with  an  expression  of  complete  boastfulness  on  his 
dark,  challenging  face,  he  said,  — 

"  Well,  Marys  ^ !  Xow  for  the  first  time  will  work  begin, 
will  it  not  ?  For  I  have  n't  the  least  idea  of  country  life, 
and  that  will  be  thy  affair.  But  I  think  that  I  shall  not 
be  the  worst  of  managers.  We  shall  both  work,  for  that 
Kremen  is  a  big  undertaking." 

"My  golden  Stas,"  answered  she,  clasping  her  hands, 
"I  know  that  thou  hast  done  that  for  me;  but  will  it  not 
injure  thee  in  business?" 

"  In  business?  It  is  thy  idea,  perhaps,  that  I  let  myself 
be  stripped.  Not  at  all !  I  bought  cheaply,  very  cheaply. 
Bigiel,  who  is  afraid  of  everything,  still  confesses  that  that 
is  a  good  purchase;  besides,  I  remain  in  company  with 
him  for  the  future.  But  only  be  not  afraid  of  Kremen, 
Marys,  or  the  old  troubles.  There  will  be  something  to 
work  with;  and  I  tell  thee  sincerely  that  if  to-day  all 
Kremen  were  to  sink  in  the  earth,  we  should  have  enough 
to  support  us,  together  with  Stas." 

"I,"  said  Marynia,  looking  at  him  more  or  less  as  she 
would  on  Napoleon,  or  some  other  conqueror  of  similar 
size,  "  am  certain  that  thou  wilt  do  all  that  thou  wishest, 
but  I  know  that  it  was  only  for  me  that  Kremen  was 
bought." 

"  And  I  hope  that  I  bought  it,  too,  because  thy  mother 
is  lying  there,  because  I  love  thee,  and  because  thou  lovest 

*  Pronounced  Marees,  a  diminutive  of  Marynia. 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  665 

Kremen,"  answered  Pan  Stanislav.  "But  in  thy  way  thou 
hast  brought  me  back  to  the  soil.  I  recall  thy  words  in 
Venice  when  Mashko  wanted  to  sell  Kremen  to  Bukatski. 
Thou  hast  no  idea  of  how  I  am  under  thy  influence. 
Sometimes  thou  wilt  say  a  thing,  and  I  for  the  moment 
make  no  answer;  still  it  remains  in  me,  and  later  it  is 
heard  unexpectedly.  So  it  was  in  this  business.  It  seems 
strange  to  me  now  for  a  man  to  dwell  on  this  planet,  to 
have  some  wealth,  as  it  were,  and  not  have  three  square 
ells  of  this  earth,  concerning  which  he  might  say  '  mine.' 
Then  the  question  was  settled.  Then  came  the  purchase. 
Perhaps  thou  hast  noticed  that  for  some  months  1  have 
been  buzzing  about  like  a  fly  in  a  caldron.  I  did  not  wish 
to  speak  to  thee  till  all  was  fiuished;  I  preferred  a  sur- 
prise. And  thou  hast  it!  This  is  because  thou  hast 
recovered,  and  art  so  beloved." 

Here  he  seized  her  hands,  and  began  to  press  them  again 
to  his  mouth  and  his  forehead.  She  wanted  to  kiss  his 
hands,  too,  but  he  would  not  permit  that;  and  at  last  they 
began  to  run  after  each  other,  like  children,  through  the 
room,  speaking  to  each  other  words  which  were  kindly, 
and  bright  as  sunbeams.  Marynia  wanted  so  much  to  go 
straight  to  Kremen,  and  to  such  a  degree  was  she  unable 
to  think  of  aught  else,  that  at  last  he  threatened  to  grow 
jealous  of  Kremen,  and  to  sell  it. 

"Oi!  thou  wilt  not  sell,"  said  she,  shaking  her  head. 

"Why  not?" 

"Because,"  said  she,  taking  his  ear,  and  whispering  into 
it,  "thou  lovest  me." 

And  he  began  to  nod  in  sign  that  that  was  true.  But 
they  agreed,  to  the  great  delight  of  Marynia,  to  go  with 
their  whole  household  to  Kremen  at  the  end  of  the  week, 
—  a  thing  perfectly  possible,  for  Pan  Stanislav  had  made 
the  house  ready  for  the  coming  of  the  "heiress."  He 
assured  her,  too,  that  almost  nothing  had  changed,  and 
he  had  tried  only  that  the  rooms  should  not  seem  too 
empty;  then  he  began  to  laugh  suddenly,  and  said,  "I  am 
curious  to  know  what  papa  will  say  to  this." 

The  conjectural  astonishment  of  "  papa  "  was  a  new  cause 
of  delight  to  Marynia.  For  that  matter,  there  was  no  need 
to  wait  long  for  Plavitski,  since  he  came  to  dinner  half  an 
hour  later.  He  had  barely  showed  himself  when  Marynia, 
throwing  herself  on  his  shoulder,  told  with  one  breatli  the 
happy  news;  he  was  really  astonished,  and  even  moved. 


666  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

Perhaps  he  felt  the  happiness  of  his  daughter;  perhaps 
there  was  roused  in  him  an  attachment  for  that  corner,  in 
which  he  had  lived  so  many  years;  it  is  enough  that  his 
eyes  grew  moist.  First  he  mentioned  his  sweat,  with  which 
that  soil  was  soaked;  then  he  began  to  say  something  of  the 
"old  man,"  and  of  his  "refuge  in  the  country;"  at  last, 
pressing  Pan  Stanislav's  head  between  his  palms,  he 
said , — 

"God  grant  thee  luck  to  manage  as  well  as  I  have 
managed,  and  be  assured  that  I  shall  not  refuse  thee 
either  my  assistance  or  my  counsels." 

In  the  evening, at  the  Bigiels',  Marynia,  still  intoxicated 
with  her  happiness,  said  to  Pani  Bigiel, — 

"Well,  now,  tell  me,  how  could  1  help  loving  a  man 
like  that?" 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  667 


CHAPTER  LXX. 

Next  morning  after  the  arrival  of  the  Polanyetskis  in 
Kremen,  it  was  Sunday.  Pan  Stanislav  himself  rose  late, 
for  they  had  come  at  one  o'clock  the  night  previous.  In 
Kremen  the  servants  had  been  waiting  with  bread  and  salt 
for  them.  Marynia,  laughing  and  weeping  in  turn,  ex- 
amined every  corner  in  the  house,  and  after  that  was  unable 
to  fall  asleep,  from  emotion,  till  almost  daylight.  For  all 
these  reasons  Pan  Stanislav  did  not  permit  her  to  rise;  but 
since  she  wanted  to  go  to  Mass  at  Vantory  rather  early,  so 
as  to  pray  at  the  church  for  her  mother,  he  promised  to 
have  the  carriage  ready,  and  let  her  know  when  it  was 
time.  Immediately  after  breakfast  he  went  out  to  look  at 
his  new  inheritance.  It  was  the  second  half  of  May,  and 
the  day  was  exceptionally  beautiful.  Rain  had  fallen  in 
the  night,  and  the  sun  was  shining  on  little  pools  in  the 
yard;  and  on  tlie  buildings  it  was  reflected  in  diamond 
brightness  in  raindrops  hanging  on  the  leaves,  and  it  made 
the  wet  roofs  of  the  barns,  cow-houses,  and  sheep-houses 
gleam.  In  that  glitter,  and  in  the  bright  May  green  of 
the  trees,  Kremen  seemed  altogether  charming.  Around 
the  buildings  there  was  hardly  any  movement,  for  it  was 
Sunday;  but  at  the  stable  were  busied  some  men,  who  had 
to  drive  to  church.  This  silence  and  sleepiness  struck 
Pan  Stanislav  strangely.  Having  intended  for  some  time  to 
buy  Kremen,  he  had  been  there  repeatedly,  and  knew  that 
it  was  a  neglected  property.  Mashko  had  begun,  it  is  true, 
to  build  a  granary,  which  was  covered  with  a  red  roof,  but 
he  had  not  finished  it.  He  had  never  lived  in  the  place 
himself,  and  toward  the  end  could  not  expend  anything  on 
the  property,  hence  neglect  was  visible  at  every  step.  But 
never  had  it  seemed  to  Pan  Stanislav  neglected  so  absolutely 
as  now,  when  he  was  able  to  say  to  himself,  "  This  is  mine." 
The  buildings  were  somehow  leaning;  the  walls  in  them 
not  very  solid;  the  fences  were  inclining  and  broken;  under 
the  wails  were  lying  fragments  of  various  broken  agricul- 
tural implements.  Everywhere  the  earth  seemed  desirous 
of  drawing  into  itself  that  which  was  on  its  surface;  every- 
where was  seen  a  kind  of  passive  abandonment  of  things 


668  CHILDREN  OF  THE   SOIL. 

to  themselves;  everywhere  carelessness  was  visible.  Of 
agriculture  Pan  Stanislav  knew  only  this,  that  there  was 
need  to  be  careful  in  expenses;  for  the  rest,  he  had  not 
the  least  conception  of  it,  save  some  general  information, 
which  had  struck  his  ears  in  childhood.  But,  looking  at 
his  kingdom,  he  divined  that  cultivation  of  its  fields  must 
coincide  exactly  with  that  carelessness  which  he  saw 
around;  he  had  a  clear  feeling  that  if  anything  was  done 
there  it  was  rather  from  custom ,  from  routine ,  as  it  were , 
and  because  of  this  alone,  that  some  such  thing  had  been 
done  ten,  twenty,  a  hundred  years  earlier.  That  exertion, 
that  untiring,  watchful  energy,  which  is  the  basis  of  com- 
merce, of  industry,  and  of  city  industry  in  general, — of 
that  there  was  not  a  trace.  "  If  I  brought  nothing  more  than 
that  to  this  torpor,"  said  Fan  Stanislav,  "it  would  be  very 
much,  for  there  is  an  absolute  lack  of  energy.  Besides, 
I  have  money,  and  at  least  this  much  knowledge,  —  that  I 
know  to  begin  with  that  I  know  nothing,  and  second,  I. 
know  that  1  must  learn  and  inquire."  He  remembered, 
besides,  from  his  Belgian  times,  that  even  abroad,  even 
there  in  Belgium,  the  spirit  of  man  and  the  exertion  of 
willmeant  more  than  the  most  powerful  machines.  And 
in  this  regard  he  counted  on  himself,  and  he  was  able  to 
count.  He  felt  that  he  was  a  persistent  and  active  man. 
Everything  taken  in  hand  by  him  hitherto  had  to  move, 
whether  it  would  or  not.  He  felt,  besides,  that  in  busi- 
ness he  had  a  head  that  was  not  fantastic,  but  one  reckon- 
ing accurately;  and,  thanks  to  this  feeling,  not  only  did 
he  not  lose  confidence  at  sight  of  the  neglect  which  he  saw 
before  him,  but  he  found  in  it  something  like  a  spur. 
That  torpor,  that  neglect,  that  inertia,  that  sleepiness, 
seemed  to  challenge  him;  and,  casting  his  eyes  around,  he 
said  to  them  almost  with  pleasure,  "That 's  all  right;  we  '11 
have  a  trial !  "     And  he  was  even  in  a  hurry  for  the  trial. 

These  first  reviews  and  thoughts  did  not  spoil  his  humor, 
but  took  much  time.  Looking  at  his  watch,  he  saw  that  if 
he  wished  to  be  in  Vantory  for  Mass,  it  was  time  to  start 
at  once;  giving  the  order,  then,  to  attach  the  horses,  he 
returned  hastily  to  the  house,  and  knocked  at  Marynia's 
door. 

"Lady  heiress!  "  called  he,  "the  service  of  God! " 

"Yes,  yes!"  answered  the  gladsome  voice  of  Marynia 
through  the  door,   "I  am  ready." 

Pan  Stanislav  went  in ,  and  saw  her  in  a  light  summer 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  669 

robe,  like  that  in  which  he  saw  her  at  his  first  visit  in 
Kremen.     She  had  dressed  thus  purposely;  and  he,  to  her 
great  delight,  understood  her  intention,  for  he  exclaimed 
stretching  out  his  hands  to  her, —  ' 

"Panna  Plavitski!" 

And  she,  as  if  embarrassed,  put  her  nose  up  to  his  face 
and  pointed  to  the  cradle,  in  which  Stas  was  sleej)ing.        ' 

Then  they  drove  to  the  church  with  Papa  Plavitski.  It 
was  a  spring  day,  bright,  full  of  warm  breezes  and  glad- 
ness. In  the  groves  the  cuckoos  were  calling,  and  on  the 
fields  striding  storks  were  visible.  Along  the  road  hoopoos 
and  magpies  flew  from  tree  to  tree  before  the  carriage. 
From  time  to  time  a  breeze  sprang  up  and  flew  over  the 
green  fleeces,  as  over  waves,  bending  the  blades  of  grass, 
and  forming  quivering  shades  on  the  green  of  the  fields. 
Around  about  was  the  odor  of  the  soil,  of  grass,  of  spring. 
He  and  she  were  seized  by  a  swarm  of  reminiscences.  In 
her  was  called  forth,  though  a  little  blunted  by  life  in  the 
city,  that  love  of  hers  for  land,  and  the  country,  the  forest 
and  green  fields,  the  fruits  in  the  fields,  the  pastures 
narrowing  in  the  distance,  the  broad  expanses  of  air,  and 
that  extent  of  the  sky  which  is  far  greater  than  in  cities. 
All  this  filled  her  with  a  half-conscious  feeling  which 
verged  on  the  intoxication  of  delight.  And  Pan  Stanislav 
remembered  how  once,  in  the  same  way,  he  had  ridden  to 
church  with  Pan  Plavitski,  and  how,  in  like  manner,  the 
hoopoos  and  magpies  flew  from  tree  to  tree  before  him. 
But  now  he  felt  at  his  side  that  rosy  woman,  whom  he  had 
seen  then  for  the  first  time,  —  that  former  Panna  Plavitski. 
In  one  Avord,  he  made  present  in  his  mind  all  that  had 
taken  place  between  them:  the  first  acquaintance,  and  that 
charm  with  which  she  possessed  him;  their  later  disagree- 
ment; that  strange  part  which  Litka  played  in  their  lives; 
their  marriage,  later  life,  and  the  hesitations  of  happiness; 
the  changes  which,  under  the  influence  of  that  clear  spirit, 
took  place  in  him,  and  the  present  clearing  up  of  life.  He 
had  also  a  blissful  feeling  that  the  evil  had  passed;  that 
he  had  found  more  than  he  had  dreamed  of;  that  at  present, 
it  is  true,  misfortunes  of  every  kind  might  come  on  him; 
but  with  reference  to  relations  with  her,  his  life  had  become 
clear  once  for  all,  and  very  honorable,  almost  equally  the 
same  as  "the  service  of  God,"  and  as  much  more  sunny 
than  the  past  as  that  horizon  which  surrounded  them  was 
sunnier  than  that  of  the  city.     At  this  thought,  happiness 


670  CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL. 

and  affection  for  her  overflowed  his  heart.  Arriving  at 
Vantory,  he  repeated  "eternal  repose  "  for  the  soul  of  that 
mother  to  whom  he  was  thankful  for  such  a  wife,  with  no 
less  devotion  than  Marynia  herself.  It  seemed  to  him 
that  he  loved  that  dust,  buried  under  the  church,  with  the 
same  filial  affection  as  the  dust  of  his  own  mother. 

But  now  the  bell  sounded  for  Mass.  Jn  the  church  again 
old  memories  thronged  into  his  mind.  Everything  around 
him  was  known  somehow,  so  that  at  moments  he  felt  the 
illusion  that  he  had  been  there  yesterday.  The  nave  of 
the  church  was  filled  with  the  same  gray  crowd  of  peasants, 
and  the  odor  of  sweet  flag;  the  same  priest  was  celebrating 
Mass  at  the  altar;  the  same  birch  branches,  moved  by  the 
breeze,  were  striking  the  window  from  the  outside;  and 
Pan  Stanislav  thought  again,  as  before,  that  everything 
passes,  life  passes,  pains  pass,  hopes,  impulses,  pass,  direc- 
tions of  thought  and  whole  systems  of  philosophy  pass, 
but  Mass,  as  of  old,  is  celebrated,  as  if  in  it  alone  were 
eternal  indestructibility.  Marynia  alone  was  a  new  form 
in  the  old  picture.  Pan  Stanislav,  looking  at  moments  on 
her  calm  face,  and  her  eyes  raised  to  the  altar,  divined 
that  she  was  praying  with  her  whole  soul  for  their  future 
life  in  the  country;  hence  he  accommodated  himself  to  her, 
and  prayed  with  her. 

But  after  Mass,  on  the  church  square,  neighbors  sur- 
rounded them,  old  acquaintances  of  Pan  Plavitski  and 
Marynia.  Plavitski,  however,  looked  around  in  vain  for 
Pani  Yamish ;  she  had  been  in  the  city  for  a  number  of 
days.  Councillor  Yamish  was  cured  completely  from 
catarrh  of  the  stomach;  and  therefore  well,  and  made 
young,  at  the  sight  of  Marynia  he  fell  into  genuine 
enthusiasm. 

"  Here  is  my  pupil ! "  cried  he,  kissing  her  hand,  "  the 
house  mistress  !  my  golden  Marynia!  Aha  !  the  birds  have 
come  back  to  the  old  nest.  But  how  beautiful  she  is  al- 
ways, as  God  is  true,  — a  young  lady,  just  a  young  damsel 
to  look  at,  though  I  know  that  there  is  a  son  in  the  house." 

Marynia  was  blushing  from  delight ;  but  at  that  moment 
the  Zazimskis  approached,  with  their  six  children,  and  with 
them  also  Pan  Gantovski,  called  commonly  "  Little  Bear," 
the  former  unsuccessful  rival  for  IVtarynia,  and  the  incom- 
plete slayer  of  Mashko.  Gantovski  approached  awkwardly 
and  with  some  confusion,  as  if  dazzled  by  Marynia's  beauty, 
and  seized  with  sorrow  for  the  happiness  which  had  missed 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  C7l 

him.  In  fact,  Maryuia  greeted  him  with  comic  awkward- 
ness; but  Fan  Stanislav  stretched  his  hand  to  liim  in  friend- 
liness, with  the  magnanimity  of  a  conqueror,  and  said,  — 

"Oh,  I  find  here  acquaintances  even  from  years  of  child- 
hood.    How  are  you  ?  " 

"  In  the  old  fashion,"  answered  Gantovski. 

But  Pan  Yamish,  who  was  in  excellent  humor,  said,  look- 
ing teasingly  at  the  young  man,  — 

"  He  has  his  cares  in  regulating  peasant  privileges." 

Gantovski  grew  still  more  confused,  for  the  whole  neigh- 
borhood was  talking  of  those  troubles.  For  some  years  the 
poor  fellow  had  been  barely  able  to  live  in  that  Yalbrykov 
of  his.  The  regulation  of  peasant  privileges  and  the  sell- 
ing of  timber  might  have  brought  him  to  the  open  road  at 
length,  when  in  opposition  to  all  the  conditions,  which 
more  than  once  had  been  near  settlement,  there  rose  the 
eternal  unchangeable  reproach  on  the  part  of  his  Yalbry- 
kov neighbors  that!  "  the  lord  heir  rides  on  a  white  horse, 
fires  from  pistols,  and  looks  into  the  girls'  eyes." 

Gantovski,  though  accustomed  from  years  of  youth  to 
various  country  troubles,  lost  at  times  his  patience  and 
cried  out  in  genuine  despair,  — 

"  Well,  dog  blood !  what  has  one  to  do  with  the  other  ? 
May  the  brightest  thunderbolts  shake  every  one  of 
you ! " 

But  after  such  a  convincing  dictum,  the  Yalbrykov  peas- 
ant representatives  assembled  as  usual  a  new  mature  coun- 
cil, and,  after  a  careful  consideration  of  everything,  for 
and  against,  announced  again,  while  scratching  the  backs 
of  their  heads,  that  all  would  be  right,  but  that  "  the  lord 
heir  rides  on  a  white  horse,  fires  from  pistols,  and  looks  at 
the  girls." 

INIean while  Marynia,  who  had  as  much  attachment  for 
Pan  Yamish  as  if  he  had  been  one  of  the  family,  when  she 
heard  tliat  he  was  a  straw  widower,  invited  him  to  dinner. 
But  beyond  expectation  Plavitski,  angry  because  he  had 
not  found  Pani  Yamish  in  Vantory,  and  mindful  of  his 
Sunday  whist  parties  with  "  Gantos,"  invited  Gantovski 
too,  in  consequence  of  which  the  Polanyetskis  drove  ahead 
very  hurriedly,  so  that  Marynia  might  have  time  to  make 
needful  arrangements.  Behind  them  came  Plavitski  and 
the  councillor;  Gantovski  dragged  on  in  the  rear  in  his 
briehka  drawn  by  a  lean  Yalbrykov  nag. 

Along  the  road  Plavitski  said  to  Councillor  Yamish,  -» 


672  CHILDREN  OF  THE   SOIL. 

**I  cannot  tell  you.  My  daughter  is  happy.  He  is  a 
good  man  and  an  energetic  piece,  but — " 

"But  what?"  asked  Fan  Yamish. 

"But  flighty.  Thou  hast  in  mind,  neighbor,  that  he 
pressed  me  so  hard  for  some  wretched  twelve  thousand 
rubles  that  I  was  forced  to  sell  Kremen.  And  what  then? 
Then  he  bought  back  that  same  Kremen.  If  he  had  not 
squeezed  me,  he  would  not  have  had  to  buy  Kremen,  for 
he  would  have  had  it  for  nothing  with  Marynia  after  my 
death.  He  is  a  good-natured  man,  but  here  "  (and  while 
he  was  saying  this,  Plavitski  tapped  his  forehead  with  his 
finger)  "there  is  something  lacking!  What  is  true,  is  not 
a  sin." 

"Hm!"  answered  Yamish,  who  did  not  wish  to  cause 
bitterness  to  Plavitski  by  the  remark  that  if  Kremen  had 
remained  longer  in  his  hands  nothing  would  have  been 
left  of  it. 

Plavitski  sighed,  and  said,  — 

"But  for  me  in  my  old  age  new  toil,  for  now  every- 
thing must  go  by  my  head." 

With  difliculty  did  Pan  Yamish  restrain  himself  from 
shouting,  "  May  God  forbid ! "  but  he  knew  Pan  Stanislav 
well  enough  to  know  that  there  was  no  danger.  Plavitski 
did  not  believe  much  in  what  he  himself  said;  he  was  a 
little  afraid  of  his  son-in-law,  and  he  knew  well  that  now 
everything  would  go  by  another  head. 

Thus  conversing,  they  drove  up  to  the  porch.  Marynia, 
who  had  arranged  everything  already  for  the  dinner,  re- 
ceived them  with  Stas  in  her  arms. 

"I  wanted  to  present  my  son  to  you  before  we  sat  down 
to  table,"  said  she;  "a  big  son!  a  tremendous  boy!  a  nice 
son !  " 

And  in  time  to  these  words  she  began  to  sway  him  toward 
Pan  Yamish.  Pan  Yamish  touched  Stas's  face  with  his 
fingers,  whereupon  the  "nice  son"  first  made  a  grimace, 
then  smiled,  and  all  at  once  gave  out  a  sound  which  might 
have  a  certain  exceptionally  important  meaning  for  investi- 
gators of  "  esoteric  speech ;  "  but  for  an  ordinary  ear  it  re- 
called wonderfully  the  cry  of  a  magpie  or  a  parrot. 

Meanwhile  Gantovski  came,  and  having  hung  up  his  over- 
coat on  a  peg  in  the  entrance,  he  was  looking  in  it  for  a 
handkerchief,  when,  by  a  strange  chance,  Rozulka,  young 
Stas's  nurse,  found  herself  also  in  the  entrance,  and  ap- 
proaching Gantovski,  embraced  his  knees,  and  then  kissed 
his  hands. 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  673 

"Oh!  how  art  thou,  how  art  thou?  What  wilt  thou 
say?"   asked  the  heir  of  Yalbrykov. 

"Nothing!  I  only  wished  to  make  obeisance,"  said 
Kozulka,   submissively. 

Gantovski  bent  a  little  to  one  side,  and  began  to  search 
for  something  with  his  fingers  in  his  breast  pocket;  but 
evidently  she  had  come  only  to  bow  to  the  heir,  for,  with- 
out waiting  for  a  gift,  she  kissed  his  hand  again,  and 
walked  away  quietly  to  the  nursery. 

Gantovski  went  with  a  heavy  face  to  the  rest  of  the 
company,  muttering  to  himself  in  bass,  — 

"Um-dree-dree!     Um-dree-dree !     Um-dramta-ta ! " 

Then  all  sat  down  at  the  table,  and  a  conversation  began 
about  the  return  of  the  Polanyetskis  to  the  country.  Pan 
Yamish,  who,  of  himself,  was  an  intelligent  man,  and,  as 
a  councillor,  must  be  wise  by  virtue  of  his  office,  and  elo- 
quent, turned  to  Pan  Stanislav,  and  said,  — 

"  You  come  to  the  country  without  a  knowledge  of  agri- 
culture, but  with  that  which  is  lacking  mainly  to  the  bulk 
of  our  country  residents,  —  a  knowledge  of  administration, 
and  capital.  Hence,  I  trust,  and  I  am  sure,  that  you  will 
not  come  out  badly  in  Kremen.  Your  return  is  for  me  a 
great  joy,  not  only  with  reference  to  j'ou  and  my  beloved 
pupil,  but  because  it  is  also  a  proof  of  what  I  say  always, 
and  assert,  that  the  majority  of  us  old  people  must  leave 
the  land;  but  our  sons,  and  if  not  our  sons,  our  grandsons, 
will  come  back;  and  will  come  back  stronger,  better 
trained  in  the  struggle  of  life,  with  calculation  in  their 
heads,  and  with  the  traditions  of  work.  Do  you  remember 
what  I  told  you  once,  —  that  land  attracts,  and  that  it  is 
genuine  wealth?  You  contradicted  me,  then,  but  to-day 
—  see,  you  are  the  owner  of  Kremen." 

"That  was  through  her,  and  for  her,"  answered  Pan 
Stanislav,  pointing  to  his  wife. 

"Through  her,  and  for  her,"  repeated  the  councillor; 
"and  do  you  think  that  in  my  theory  there  is  no  place  for 
women,  and  that  I  do  not  know  their  value?  They  divine 
with  heart  and  conscience  where  there  is  real  obligation, 
and  with  their  hearts  they  urge  on  to  it.  But  land  is  a 
real  obligation,  as  well  as  real  wealth." 

Here  Pan  Yamish,  who,  in  the  image  and  likeness  of 
many  councillors,  had  this  weakness,  that  he  was  fond  of 
listening  to  himself,  closed  his  eyes,  so  as  to  listen  still 
better,  and  continued,  — 

48 


674  CHILDREN  OF  THE   SOIL. 

"Yes,  you  have  returned  through  your  wife!  Yes,  that 
is  her  merit;  and  God  grant  us  that  such  women  be  born 
more  frequently!  But  in  your  way  you  have  all  come  out 
of  the  soil,  and  therefore  soil  attracts  you.  We  ought  to 
have  the  plough  on  our  escutcheons,  all  of  us.  And  I  tell 
you  more,  not  only  did  Fan  Stanislav  Polanyetski  return, 
not  only  did  Paui  Marynia  Polanyetski  return,  but  the 
family  of  the  Polanyetskis  returned,  for  in  it  was  awakened 
the  instinct  of  whole  generations,  who  grew  out  of  the  soil, 
and  whose  dust  is  enriching  it." 

When  he  had  said  this,  Pan  Yamish  rose,  and  taking  a 
goblet,  exclaimed,  — 

"In  the  hands  of  Pani  Polanyetski,  the  health  of  the 
family  of  the  Polanyetskis!" 

"To  the  health  of  the  family  of  the  Polanyetskis!" 
cried  Gantovski,  who,  having  a  feeling  heart,  was  ready 
to  forgive  the  family  of  the  Polanyetskis  all  the  sufferings 
of  heart  through  which  he  had  passed  by  reason  of  them. 

And  all  went  with  their  glasses  to  Pani  Marynia,  who 
thanked  them  with  emotion;  but  to  Pan  Stanislav,  who 
approached  her,  she  whispered,  — 

"Ai,  Stas,  how  happy  I  am!" 

But  when  all  in  the  company  found  themselves  again  at 
their  places,  Papa  Plavitski  added,  on  his  part,  — 

"  Keep  the  soil  to  the  very  last!  that  is  what  I  have  been 
advocating  all  my  life." 

"  That  is  certain ! "  conlirmed  Gantovski. 

But  in  his  soul  he  thought,  "If  it  were  not  for  those 
dog  blood  troubles ! " 

And  at  that  very  time,  in  the  nursery,  Rozulka  was  sing- 
ing little  Stas  to  sleep  with  the  sad  village  song,  — 

"  Those  ill-fated  chambers. 
Oi,  thou  my  Yasenku  ! " 

After  dinner,  the  guests  were  making  ready  to  separate; 
but  Plavitski  kept  them  for  a  "little  party,"  so  that  they 
went  away  only  when  the  sun  was  near  setting.  Then  the 
Polanyetskis,  having  amused  themselves  first  with  little 
Stas,  went  out  on  the  porch,  and  further,  to  the  garden, 
for  the  evening  was  calm  and  clear.  Everything  reminded 
them  of  that  first  Sunday  which  they  had  spent  there 
together;  it  seemed  to  them  like  some  wonderful  and 
pleasant  dream,  and  reminiscences  of  that  kind  were  there 
without  number  at  every  step.     The  sun  was  going  down 


CHILDREN  OF  THE  SOIL.  675 

in  the  same  way,  large  and  shining;  the  trees  stood  motion- 
less in  the  stillness  of  evening,  reddening  at  the  tops  from 
the  evening  light;  on  the  other  side  of  the  house  the  storks 
were  chattering  in  the  same  way  on  their  nests ;  there  was 
the  same  mood  of  all  things  around  them,  cherishing  and 
vesperal.  They  began  to  walk  about,  to  pass  through  all 
the  alleys,  go  to  the  fences,  look  at  the  fields,  which  lost 
themselves  in  the  distance,  at  the  narrow  strips  of  woods 
barring  the  horizon,  and  to  say  quiet  things  to  each  other, 
and  also  as  quietly  as  that  evening  was  quiet.  All  this 
which  surrounded  them  was  to  be  their  world.  Both  felt 
that  that  village  was  taking  them  into  itself;  that  some 
relation  was  beginning  to  weave  itself  between  them  and 
it;  that  henceforth  their  life  must  flow  there,  not  else- 
where, —  laborers,  devoted  to  the  "  service  of  God "  in  the 
field. 

When  the  sun  had  gone  down,  they  returned  to  the  porch ; 
but,  as  on  that  first  occasion,  so  now  they  remained  on  it, 
waiting  for  perfect  darkness.  But  formerly  Marynia  had 
kept  at  a  distance  from  Pan  Stanislav ;  now  she  nestled  lip 
to  his  side,  and  said,  after  some  silence,  — 

"  It  will  be  pleasant  for  us  here  with  each  other,  Stas, 
will  it  not?" 

And  he  embraced  her  firmly,  so  as  to  feel  her  at  his  very 
heart,  and  said,  — 

"My  beloved,  ray  greatly  beloved! " 

Then  from  beyond  the  alder-trees,  which  were  wrapped 
in  haze,  rose  the  ruddy  moon;  and  the  frogs  in  the  ponds, 
having  learned,  evidently,  that  the  lady  had  returned,  she 
whom  they  had  seen  so  often  at  the  shore,  called  in  the 
midst  of  the  evening  silence,  in  one  great  chorus,  — 

"Glad!  glad!" 


THE  END. 


A    000  138  845 


.1 


University  of  California 

SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 

405  Hilgard  Avenue,  Los  Angeles,  CA  90024-1388 

Return  this  material  to  ttie  library 

^     from  wtiich  it  was  borrowed. 

— ^^-^xr 


^Wd 


•  :al  Hi 


brny 


)t 


